


Born FREE

by gDeIpVhIrNoEtt



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Tragedy, Anti-Hero, Blood, Disease, Experimentation, Gen, Genetic Disorders & Abnormalities, Genetics, Insanity, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4481342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gDeIpVhIrNoEtt/pseuds/gDeIpVhIrNoEtt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Freedom from those who claimed us without any right, was all I wanted to give. Not a separation, not heartache, not the slightest fragment of hell. With you, I wanted to go on. Not apart from you. Never alone." Novelization of Crisis Core (and before), in Genesis' POV. Please review. Rated serious M. No yaoi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ripples Explode To Waves

**Author's Note:**

> No yaoi, suitable for general audience. However, this is rated M for a reason: please read the tags before going on.  
> The story of Crisis Core is already tragic by itself. In the point of view of the acclaimed villain, Genesis, the story is going to be very ugly, of course. As much as I show his perseverance and buried heroism, this work is quite heavy and angsty. Human experimentation is also explicit. So if you're sensitive, can't tolerate angst, or if any pf the tags trigger you, please do not proceed.

Chapter 1: Ripples Explode to Waves

Silently, but surely.

He knew there was something hidden within him.

Deep within his soul.

Not dark, but not light.

Real was his dream,

and he wanted it to live and scream and hurt and heal,

And through this, the dream became real.

But neither was it extinguished nor fulfilled.

Tousled cinnamon hair

Pale, almost-lifeless skin

Painfully shut eyes

Blazing was his heart, mind, and soul

His nerves were on fire.

The familiar sight of evergreen soft against his eyes, laced with pale-brown trees here and there, and elegant purple jewels was immensely comforting.

Raven hair, stale-blue eyes that were comforting to him, but intimidating to others. An eternal jewel.

Moon-kissed tresses, a perfect veil against the warm sun. Harsh and sharp emerald eyes that saw right through his soul.

Melded with their smiles, the world was perfect, if not heaven.

Masterly controlled by an unknown, dark force in his mind and deep unconsciousness, his body tossed and writhed, a hopeless attempt to escape the discomfort. As a bead of sweat ran down his pale forehead, the green darkened to the black of soot, and the scent of purple apples transformed to...smoke. Smoke. He couldn't cover his nose.

The familiar metropolis transformed into flames, the magnificence reduced to rubble and ashes.

A fierce, determined face, eyes as cool and deep as the sea and blue sky, stood out somewhat, defiant. Refusing to back down, refusing to lose. His hair was a fine obsidian, wayward and unruly.  
There was fierceness in those rare, rare eyes, but in them, he found an eternal reconciliation, an eternal forgiveness.  
Flawless humanity.

The sting of the cold night dissolved into sweat that ran down his palms.  
Blood stained his own hands endlessly, vivid even against his crimson coat.

" _The time has come_."

A harsh gasp. In his unconsciousness, he couldn't cover his ears.

" _Surrender to the blood lust. Let the hatred control you_."

In his unconsciousness, an ear-splitting noise nearly deafened him.

" _The world has turned against you. Listen to me_."

The inhumane voice drowned out, a new scenario played in his nightmare.

An angelic, noble-looking monstrosity wielding a deadly trident. Blood, soot, and the smell of thunder. The darkening sunset was mixed with tears and wails and pity.  
Slain by the obsidian-haired child. Loss and sympathy cut deep through his tortured soul. Emotions flooded to him, and even in his unconsciousness he somehow felt tears running down. Lost was a portion of the world. Lost was a third of his heart.

" _The world has nothing left for you_. _Turn away_."

There was an intense heat, of hatred and flames and evil. And amidst the inferno, an outstanding figure stood - someone he knew all-too-well. The moon-kissed tresses were immaculate against the red and yellow and orange dancing, but the emerald eyes were tainted. Tainted beyond this world. Beyond forgiveness.

Inhuman.

Unforgivable.

Monstrous.

Hopeless.

" _Abandon all hope. Love is only ephemeral_."

The three of them were there. Their blades clashing, singing the song of metal and swords clashing, boots heavy and quick against the ground, body and mind one entity - the song only the three of them could sing to the world. Friendly spars that were huge slices of their paradise. The adrenaline rushing through his veins, spreading like wildfire. Pride and impatience got the better of him, and the unwanted voice invading him. A reflection?  
A backfire.  
With a backfire, the world ended for him. Everything turned upside-down. His left shoulder burned. Burned.  
What was wrong was now right. What was right was now unacceptable.

Genesis somehow managed to jerk awake. Never had been a nightmare so real, so terrifying. He had never been terrified in his life - _this_ terrified. Genesis was almost _never_ capable of feeling the emotion they call "terror". The images were too vivid, too unforgettable. As if in queue, his fingers thrust themselves to feel his left shoulder, the normality unacceptable. They dug deeper into the flesh, the mako and alien in his system pushing his fingers even more deeper to leave bruises.  
The redhead swore he could still feel the burn. He swore he felt the pain. He swore he felt the hatred, the anger. The confusion. But his shoulder was unscathed, good as new.

"It wasn't just a dream," the words began slipping out of his mouth rapidly, uncontrollable, as if it was the second-in-queue. "It wasn't just a dream. IT WASN'T JUST A DREAM!" With the scream, there was a jolt, a jolt that snapped him back to reality. Urgent gasps and spasming took its place. The redhead felt trapped, felt caged, as if there was no air to breathe. The room was hotter than a forge, and the comforting darkness was now a silent inferno slowly dragging him into insanity if he didn't do anything.

He felt wrong, so upside-down. And _gaia_ , was he shaking? He never shook. Crimson Commander, SOLDIER 1st-Class Genesis Rhapsodos never trembled.

Forcing his body to get up, he felt and saw his bare feet wobbling against the carpeted floor. There was no coldness in the friction, but his feet felt like ice. Still unable to brush the feelings off, he headed to the bathroom, or forced himself to.

Blade-sharp sapphire eyes, dangerous as a tempest. Pale, unblemished skin. Cinnamon hair styled to perfection.  
A flawless reflection. A sculpted beauty. The redhead blinked his eyes. His reflection emulated him, and Genesis could see the invisible, mocking smile in the mirror.  
He splashed cold water on his face. Nothing changed. Unsatisfied, he splashed it on the bathroom mirror, careless. Genesis was a person who cared about and for nothing, but tonight was different. For eternal minutes his troubled breathing was booming in the still silence. Then when he felt calm enough, an inhumane figure took his reflection's place in the mirror, as if it was the third-in-queue. He turned around quickly, but he found nothing and no one around him.

A dark-crimson monstrosity.  
Twisted beyond humanity.  
But looking deep through the ugliness, he swore he saw himself.

He lunged the glass he used for brushing his teeth against the mirror, tainted with a superhuman sight. Shards of glass were flying everywhere. Some prickled their way into his creamy skin, leaving red dots on his flawless skin. Some fell to the sink. Genesis' eyes were wide with uncharacteristic fear and confusion, his pale body trembling once again. After eternities of the now-unnerving breath-in breath-out, he shot the most ferocious look he could muster at the mirror. It was shattered, no more trace of any crimson. The redhead swore. And swore again when he realized he was doing it out of fear. Nothing could ever scare Crimson Commander, SOLDIER 1st-Class Genesis Rhapsodos.

The redhead felt transparent, fleeting. As if he was a dream. As if he had no place here.

Walking out of the damaged bathroom, he dialed the room service, politely requesting for a mirror repair the next morning. He settled with standing in front of the bedroom window, refusing the urge to open it because of the polluted metropolitan air. Images of his clean, heavenly hometown flashed into his brain, and longing grew. He momentarily pushed away the memory of paradise. SOLDIER was his life, his duty, his calling. There would be a time for vacation later.

" _The world has nothing left for you. Turn away_ "

A scream tore out of the redhead's lips. It was the same ear-splitting voice from the dream.

_I swear it was_.

He covered his ears, wondering how the dream suddenly jumped into the reality. It seemed to come from deep inside him, but it wasn't his own voice. It wasn't even something subconscious. It was foreign.

New.  
Unwanted.  
Unwelcome.

An inhumane surge of energy flooded his whole being. Mind, body, soul. It was unwanted as much as the voice was. The redhead felt every single nerve, muscle, and bone flare up, trying to fight it. As if it had something to take, something to subjugate.

" _Listen to me, my faithful puppet"_

A cosmic yell from his subconscious tore out from nowhere and everywhere.

" _My monster._ "

Monster?

The redhead's clammy hands began flailing for something, _anything_ , to hold on to, and to distract himself. They landed on the adjacent chair's cool handrest, but Genesis felt his grip on it loosen each passing second. His consciousness was slipping into the darkness already. A surge of inhumane feeling coupled with a deafening ring left him knocked out.

The familiar ring of Genesis' private phone expected five days a week at this time rang him to consciousness. Fellow 1st-class and irreplaceable childhood friend, Angeal Hewley's voice through his phone. The unwelcoming sting of dawn chill that always made him resist the urge to crawl back to bed. As they were meant to everyday, the images and feelings piece themselves together, and this is how Genesis knows it's morning, and the long, rough, but unpredictable day would have to begin.  
6:00 a.m was the time the 1st classes would have to wake up, even though no one liked it, and even though there weren't many 1sts in SOLDIER. Genesis just happened to hate it more than everyone in SOLDIER put together. As all the bones in his body settled into place, the aches in many corners registered. The redhead noted to himself that he spent nearly half a night sleeping on the cold carpeted floor. In a quite uncomfortable position. Several unpleasant headrushes attacked him, and his back and legs felt even more sore.  
How he hated mornings. Mornings were cursed.

Thinking it would be a good idea to stretch, he proceeded to do so and unwillingly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The colors and shapes that made up his hotel-apartment came out clearer.  
But something felt wrong. Something felt different. He ignored the feeling for now, and was in desperate need to wash his face. Still groggy, a prick on his foot surprised him mildly when he reached the bathroom. Painful and anxious memories from last night's nightmare flooded to him, fast and powerful as an ocean wave.  
Was it a nightmare..or was it real?  
His sapphire eyes were locked on the sight of the ruined bathroom. Ruined, quite awfully. There were glass shards everywhere, the bathroom mirror could no longer be called a mirror. The hair and facial care products near the sink were a sorry mess, and even the shower curtain was torn, as if it was clawed by a wild beast. Genesis wondered how a hurricane could have made its way into his precious, dear bathroom.

"How-"

If anxiety, anger, hatred, helplessness, and fear could all be felt at the same time, Genesis was sure he was feeling it right now. He scratched his head, trying to ignore the strange feeling for...forever.  
A ring of the doorbell. As if in reflex, the redhead's hands automatically reach up to fix his hair into normality. After a clear of his throat, Genesis tightened his bathrobe ribbon and opened his apartment door.  
"G-good morning, Genesis, umm, s-sir," a young, frightened hotel boy looked up to him, trembling as he gripped the cleaning-tool wagon (as Genesis called it), his eyes clearly stating the fact that Genesis was a person who scared him. The redhead's brain was unbelievably slow on mornings, and this fact was written on the crotchety face. He remained standing there, the door in front of him ajar, not knowing exactly what was this about, or what he should do.  
After what seemed like too long, the hotel boy squeaked out, "You requested for-for m-mirror repair th-thi-this m-midnight...s-sir..," The last word was more of a terrified scream, as if he was expecting the redhead to eat him alive. If it wasn't morning, the redhead would have rewarded him with an amused-sadistic smirk.

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

His fingers crossed and pressed at the keys skillfully, the beeps and pressure creating the message that showed on the small phone screen. It read,

" _'geal, Seph, I'm running at least an hour late. Bathroom mirror repair._ "

The redhead needed to be dressed in his uniform...or _gear_ , as he liked to call it, now, but he valued privacy. Dressing was an important process, and there was no privacy in his hotel-apartment now. He sat on his armchair and turned the pages of LOVELESS, the words imprinted on the paper sentences already melted into his brain. It was an ancient epic, a classic play that always sold out in every single theater and cinema here in Midgar. A magnificent tragedy of three friends - a hero, a wanderer, and a prisoner - how they lost each other, how they lost themselves.

_Genesis, at age ten, shyly gripped the doorframe of his father's study, his eyes darting everywhere, trying to memorize everything in the room. Oaken furniture, chandeliers illuminated with warm, orange light, dusty bookshelves. An open book atop the expensive, crafted oakwood table, was the most attractive object. It was yelling at him, asking him to read it, to touch its pages and be lost in the words._

_"You will fall to the abyss, when you search for Her gift, you set to a hopeless journey," the words slip out of the child's mouth as he read aloud from the pages, the ends and corners of the paper smelling ancient, the book's leather cover smooth against his palms._

_"What nonsense is this..?!" Genesis asked himself in a mocking tone, a derisive sneer at his face, still round with youth and innocence. Not wanting to entertain the rising feeling within him, he threw the leather book to the floor, furiously._

Genesis' fingers gingerly ghosted all over his leather-clad form, trying to find a fault, or trying to imagine any faults in the pool of black straps, belts, and fabric just to have an excuse to admire his battle-honed physique. Angeal and Sephiroth would always advise him to forget about the decorations - replace them with something more...practical. A vain person, of course the redhead would always brush them off. True; elegance was not essential in battle, in the heat, amidst the blood and dirt and grime. But looking good was one of the few things that made him feel more _alive_ , in the monotonous strings of battles, missions, paperwork, errands, and bloodshed that was their life. Their world.

Black leather chair, spotless black porcelain desk, deceiving books that have absolutely no connection with the redhead or his interests, lined the metal bookshelves. The walls were painted with a cross between obsidian and a very heavy purple. Genesis added a heavier accent to every footfall as he made his way to his office desk - oh, how he loved to _hear_ the fact that the floor tiles were glass. His signature smirk washed the angelic serenity from his face, gloved fingers fiddling with his silver-black raindrop earrings. The moment he sat on his desk, the laptop singing its routine "good morning, let's get to boring paper work" with a beep, Genesis patiently tackled with the daily portion of fatigue and stress and and boredom and monotony. Being a 1st-class SOLDIER meant having to be buried in paperwork, too. An exasperated sigh slipped out of his lips as another secretary brought in more paperwork. To amuse himself amidst the boredom and uninteresting readings, Genesis measured the day by counting how many secretaries have come into his office. He longed for a phone call from the President, assigning him to a mission or a patrol - _a_ _nything_ to escape all this. A call from Angeal or Sephiroth would be better, he wistfully added to himself.

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

"So...'geal...how did it go with the coach?" Genesis asked, pretending to sound as if he cared, when truth be told, he was more interested in the apple-cinnamon-strawberry cocktail he was slurping on. He _did_ care about anything that involved his childhood friend - his brother - but if it was a story tangled with Shinra or SOLDIER, he could do with one less of those repetitive military reports or whatever.

Angeal, sitting opposite him and Sephiroth in the 1st-class cafeteria, let out a low hum. "I was the one chosen for the apprenticeship program." The obsidian-haired man's news and words were drowned out by his own musings. Being with his best friends, the only best friends he had in this whole boring world, was more than he could ever ask for. They were friends he would throw away his life for, people he trusted to have his back, to always be there for him, with his life. Their friendship, their _bond_ , carved an ideal, infallible covenant between the three of them. Carved with blood, sweat, tears - tested through the cornucopia of battles, missions, enemy interrogations - every single kind of test.  
Sephiroth, head general of SOLDIER, also sat beside them, there and not there at the same time. His presence was both fleeting, as if a whisper would blow him away - and immortal, like a skin no one could ever get rid of.

"And...here's the big thing," Angeal raised his voice to catch the redhead's attention. Looking up, Genesis locked his eyes to his childhood friend's face. Sephiroth also seemed to be paying attention now.

"Zack Fair - a 3rd-class prodigy," Angeal let out after a deep breath, as if he was preparing them for the "big thing", "is going to be my apprentice from now on."

The news hit Genesis like a thunderbolt. He didn't exactly know what the uncomfortable feeling rising within him was, and didn't want to entertain it, either. Was it...jealousy? Pain? Fear? His sapphire eyes hardened, focused on the table instead, trying to get some distraction out of his own finger-tapping. Sephiroth seemed to be taking the news easily - but Sephiroth was a poker-face. Still struggling to fight off the uncomfortable feelings, he shifted his gaze to Angeal's rain-blue eyes, hoping they would just slide away and leave him alone.

"I'm already assuming your schedule has been turned upside-down," Sephiroth commented before pristinely, noiselessly wiping his ravioli-stained lips with a napkin. "Mentorship is not...an easy task."  
A slow smile softened Angeal's face, eased the creases on his forehead. "It shouldn't be. But Zack - he is something else."

The feelings swelled until the redhead felt his chest tighten. Genesis forced himself to rise, the strained effort resulting in an unceremonious squeak of the chair. "Ange, Seph, I gotta go," he said, beats too fast and much too nervously. As he stormed out of the quiet cafeteria, Angeal came into his mind - everything about the man and friend he'd known since..forever. His shoulder-length obsidian locks. His clear, vivid rain-blue eyes, that always spread out and radiated a sense of security for Genesis. Angeal's muscular figure, the steel-like defense of his body. The stability. The protection, despite the fact that Genesis was the eldest of the three. Honor. _Angeal_.

Jealousy. It was jealousy.  
_Angeal..will be taken away from me_ , a thought presented itself to Genesis, both subconscious and sure.

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

Genesis walked down the corridors like a possessed man, earning frightened and alarmed reactions from the cadets, fellow soldiers, and staff he passed by. _Genesis, calm down!_ \- he tried to tell himself. _Angeal's just going to have an apprentice. It's not the end of the world._ Sweat broke out in his pale forehead, subtly glazing the cinnamon locks that spilled on it. His mind recoiled to that moment, those cursed words that came from Angeal's lips. _Zack Fair is going to be my apprentice._ The redhead clenched a fist, harder and harder as he couldn't control the feeling within him anymore. A grunt uncharacteristically managed to escape his lips. Frustrated, Genesis quickened his pace, practically stomping now. He tried to burn away the clench in his throat and the tightening of his chest with a good walk...  
" _Am I due_?" he asked himself, stopping short.

As if answering his question, his cellphone beeped.  
Dr. Hollander's voice came, as if exasperated, as if he was conveying a message repeated much too often. "Genesis," he said with a sigh so tired, "You've forgotten again. I'm waiting for you in the lab."  
Genesis shut his cellphone, heading to the science building. The place he hated the most.

Grey. Aluminum, cement. Wires, tapes, tubes, glaring lights, hospital beds, computers. Brains-on-a-stick, and more abominations, all in perfect attendance, greeted him glumly. Something was either too drab or too psychedelic. But compared to Hojo's lab, which was a hellhole no one dared to speak of, Hollander's was merciful...much more humane. Like the scientist who owned it.

Hollander was a warm and considerate scientist, sensitive to everything anyone felt. As much as the redhead hated to admit the fact, Hollander was like a second father to him and Angeal. Spirited and smooth, the man never stopped reminding him of a fireplace - open and there for comfort. The sore feelings and ends Genesis could never bring up to his own father, Hollander understood it all, flawlessly. Whether it was an unusual pain or an ache that wouldn't go away, Hollander was there. Maybe it was the same with Angeal. The both of them knew Hollander since they were children. Every single week, he would come from the city to check on them both, as if they were special, as if they were something different. And when they left Banora to join SOLDIER, fourteen and full of dreams, Hollander was still assigned to them.

"You can't keep forgetting, Genesis," the tired voice calls out, breaking the lab's unnerving silence along with footsteps. "It will be bad for your health."

Everything passes like last time, and the time before that. Genesis didn't even need to crack his eyes open or to rely on a sensation to know every single step. The scientist makes him sit on a bed, rolling up his leather-clad sleeve, injecting the disgusting green substance into his system. The same pungent substance that makes him stronger, faster, _less human_. The substance that makes him 1st-Class SOLDIER, Crimson Commander Genesis Rhapsodos. A killing machine. For Shinra. For SOLDIER.  
The price? Fever. Mood swings. Emotional instability. Nausea. Sometimes all of them put together. Being 1st-Class meant having the most mako in your bloodstream. In exchange for power, every week, they had to do this, and they had to deal with the cursed side-effects for at least three days after every injection. Genesis always took it the worst. It was during a vomiting spree or a painfully white-hot fever when he realized how lucky he was to have Angeal and Sephiroth. When he realized how much he really needed them _both_.

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

The feelings weren't buried yet. Genesis observed the repaired bathroom mirror, LOVELESS in hand.

_From the heart's water surface_  
A hopeless wander will flow  
Like ripples to waves  
Come forth the dreams below.  


The feelings? He didn't want to feel them. He wanted nothing to do with them. Why did he feel this way? He had no right to. Angeal had his own life. Angeal has his own dreams, his own happiness, no matter how much the three of them shared everything. Genesis wasn't a fool. Today's overdue mako appointment had nothing to do with all this. He couldn't stop it. He could control nothing today.  
Genesis looked up to the mirror, pristine and perfect, no traces of yesterday's incident. He saw his eyebrow quirk up. Did today have something to do about yesterday's... _adventure_?

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

_Zack Fair, 3rd-Class_ , Genesis read from the folder, furious and impatient. His eyes ran through every single letter, absorbed every single word, trying to find out...something. Trying to pick out the secret. The riddle. _Hometown: Gongaga. 15 years old. Exceeds training standards in all subjects. Broke every sparring instructor's sword. Transferred to advance class thrice. Apprentice to Angeal Hewley, effective 14/7/0000.  
_ Genesis rubbed his eyes after seven minutes of reading. Almost forgetting, he pulled out the attached pictures from the folder, and there's nothing he could do but drop the folder, papers and pictures and all, to the floor.

Wayward, unruly black hair, a fine obsidian, unbelievably spiky.  
Eyes as cool and deep as the sea and blue sky.  
An ear-splitting grin.  
An aura and spirit that was a rarity, a jewel in this drab world.

So this was Zack Fair. The boy from his nightmare.

 


	2. And So Crashes A Storm

Chapter 2: And So Crashes a Storm

A storm he knew would come. A storm he would never, could never ever weather, not even as he looked back at the memory now holding all the answers in his..hand. Not even now, when he flawlessly understood why the child came into their lives, even if the cursed angel deserved not even the ghostliest touch of misery.

After all, there was only hatred left.

There were no traces of godlike humanity in the boy, as Genesis felt in his dream. No maturity, no wisdom. A different person stood before him, but the redhead knew, in a way he couldn't understand, that it was the same person.

Zack Fair bounced every gaia-damned second, but when he salutes, the crisp admiration that shapes the straight line of his fingers is genuine. In those restless, ocean-blue eyes, there was respect for his superiors and dedication to SOLDIER. But what could a child, what could a 3rd-Class know about honor, about blood, about hell, about the undeniable reality of being a soldier, a killer? The doubt crept its way to Genesis' mind, but he surprised himself when he barreled past the thought as if he already knew the answer.  
Well, Zack Fair did look promising. Genesis _felt_ Zack Fair looked promising. In a good and bad way. And that was the most unnerving thing.

Angeal cheerily, but not too cheerily listed Zack's outstanding records, taking the reins and making sure to control his voice as to not let Zack's ego swell. The raven-haired man was doing a great job so far, but Zack Fair was Zack Fair and nothing could ever take away that ear-splitting grin, nothing could ever dream of stopping him from bouncing, nothing could ever satiate the excitement and the zeal melted in those cool mako-blue eyes.  
Even Sephiroth was impressed. But that meant that everyone had high, heaven-high expectations for Zack Fair.

For the second time of the day, Genesis surprised himself by storming out of the room when Zack saluted him.  
Footsteps heavy, breathing furious. The redhead couldn't see past the clouds of hatred and anger that gathered then swarmed at his heart, blocking all logic and reason. He couldn't hear the concerned shouts from Angeal (and Sephiroth's silent ones) back from the office.

When Genesis reached his apartment his sapphire eyes sharpened and distorted until they were mako-green. The surge of emotion - be it anger, sadness, or frustration - triggered this reaction. His heartbeat pounded painfully against his chest, and pure frustration came like another wave. Problem is, he couldn't figure out who to blame this on. He couldn't figure out _why_ , _why_ , he was feeling this way.

 _The wandering soul knows no rest_.

He assessed the situation again.

 _Zack Fair just became Angeal's apprentice_.  
A deep breath.  
 _Your best friend is now a mentor.  
_ A deeper breath.  
 _Zack Fair was just introduced to you minutes ago and you stormed off rudely. Worse, you didn't know why.  
_ An even deeper breath. Genesis looked for the answer.  
 _Part of you is jealous. Angeal doesn't spend as much time with you as he did before that brat came._

Yes, the redhead couldn't deny it - Angeal was already buried in paperwork and bombarded with missions and had a heavy responsibility like every other 1st-Class. Yes, Genesis was always buried in paperwork too - he knew exactly how it felt. Sephiroth had the most responsibility, but Sephiroth didn't know the meaning of fun play like Angeal sometimes did, and like Genesis _a_ _lways_ did. The mentorship program is not easy - it never was and never will be. The life and the progress and growth of Zack Fair both as an individual and a SOLDIER was assigned to Angeal. Of course it won't be easy.

Genesis thought back to yesterday, and the days before. At how things easily changed without any fight. At how their world continued revolving as if there were no changes. Angeal walks with Zack at a distance, and he waves or smiles when he encounters either of his best friends. But duty came first, and Zack was a special duty.  
Zack was getting all the attention.  
An unbreakable barrier erected between the redhead and Angeal - a barrier neither of them wanted, and both of them knew that. When Angeal passes by, he acknowledges Genesis like always, but there was something so gaia-damned _different_ now. As if the redhead's place in Angeal's heart and memories was shrinking and shrinking each passing second. For _gaia_ , Angeal was his best friend. Of course nothing could stand between them, ever.

_What if you're wrong?_

He broke his own thoughts with a sigh. Even more frustrated, Genesis played with LOVELESS' leather cover, flipping the pages to occupy himself. But his fingers were shaking, tipped with anxiety.

 _Love twisted to hate and peace blackened to rage_  
The goddess loved you  
In your own pathetic joy.  
She has forsaken you,  
And shared none of her blessings.  


It was the act Genesis didn't quite like and didn't quite hate. The second act was a bit longer but compared to the last two it was short. The prisoner loses everything. Slowly, painfully. In the midst of the anger and sorrow, he recalls the secret covenant the goddess was supposed to mark him with, and how he's forsaken. How hopeless he is. His hate goes to the person who stole, the intruder -

Genesis swore under his breath.

 _You rest your faith_  
On the dawn's hero,  
And the champion that will heal the tomorrow

But the prisoner seeks his own joy, nevertheless. A hero was promised. A hero who would fulfill the forsaken covenant after all the prisoner's sacrifices for justice and for the world.

 _To see the light of another morning,_  
To see the next smile of the sun  


_We sold our souls._

It is a tough journey for all the characters. An unbearably painful journey, in every way possible. The wanderer and the prisoner are destroyed in their slow death, but the prisoner never lost faith.

_A monster, you have become._

* * *

_14-year-old Genesis, purer and brighter, smiled his trademark smug grin. It creeped out his fellow cadets especially when he had a Death materia around his hand, but to Angeal, it was Genesis. Materia of highest-level danger was a truly suiting accessory for Genesis. Dangerous, mischievous Genesis Rhapsodos.  
_

_"Exceptional work, Rhapsodos," the coach's drone voice blared, but it couldn't hide the laced praise._

_Ebullient, Genesis did it again. One more time. Let's do it one more time.  
_

_Deep breath._

_Accept it._

_Deep breath._

_Feel the flow._

_Deep breath._

_Map out the flow, until it bonds with you._

_Deep breath._

_Connect with it._

_Be one, but not too closely._

_Be one, but don't let it take over you._

_He felt that usual surge of energy flare up in his hand. That flame in his being that was completely his, that added something more to the surge. The magic of the materia is broken from its circular confines - Genesis, a perfect, flawless conductor of the small, small, small portion of Lifestream._   
_A smile. Pride welled up in his chest. Relief, then, freedom. That was magic. Genesis' magic._

_"The Lifestream won't lend you its divine power if you don't open yourself first," the instructor continued, eyeing each and every one of them. "That is how you use materia. Feel the emotion locked within it, but don't let it control you. It will only release energy if you feel it and acknowledge its existence. Even if you don't understand it." The cadets around him yawned. Angeal was getting some of it, but the words were too cryptic. To Genesis, they made sense. Each and every single one._

* * *

Genesis jerked back awake when he heard the doorbell's abominable ring. Not quite awake yet, he gulped down the remaining water in the glass and stomped his way to the door.

"Genesis," Angeal's voice.  
"My friend," Angeal's smile.  
The raven-haired man reached out, pulling him into a casual embrace. Angeal's warmth.  
They settled down on two sofas, sitting adjacent to each other as usual.

"My friend...did Zack upset you? Is something wrong, Genesis?" There was no judgment or anger in the voice. Just concern. As always. Genesis felt guilty to be showered with such warmth and understanding, when he could only blame himself. Here he was, making everyone feel unwanted, bad - and Angeal comes, asking him what's wrong, when the man should be shouting at him, demanding why he's ruining things. Genesis swallowed, waiting for Angeal's voice to rise, waiting for a shout, waiting for the anger to crash down between the both of them. Instead, Angeal sighed, closed his eyes. _He does this whenever he doesn't understand my feelings_. Angeal's warm blue eyes flickered to his tempest-sharp ones.

"Tell me what's wrong, Genesis. You've been acting strange ever since I've announced Zack's apprenticeship."  
 _Dear old friend, you are too forgiving. You are an angel, and that will wound us both._  
"I've just had my injection." The perfect excuse. To Genesis' dismay, Angeal sighed again. The raven-haired man knew there was something bigger. Silence thickened the tension until Angeal sighed for the third time.

"Are you uncomfortable with Zack?"  
 _Dear old friend, I am happy for you. But you have absolutely no idea what you are putting me through._

"What if I am?"  
 _Please, 'geal..just let this go._

"Zack is a bright child, Genesis. He has character, and to top that, he is sincere. I am going to listen to you if thre is a story, but I highly doubt Zack did something," Angeal surged out, as if using the words to smooth out a wrinkled blanket. "I don't want anything to affect his progress."

_But you fail to see how he and you are affecting me. Gaia-dammit, 'geal.  
_

Genesis took a deep breath. Wished that Angeal would see the truth. And at the same time, prayed hard that he'll just let this slip. "No, 'geal. He did nothing to upset me."  
 _Dear friend, you do not know what I have seen. What I have felt. What he and you are forcing me to feel.  
_

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?" He eyed Genesis again, as if trying to look for the buried answer.  
Genesis swallowed, then blinked. Tried to regain his former, original self. "Yes, 'geal. What could an innocent puppy do to upset me?"

Multiple emotions flashed on his face. The raven-haired man didn't look satisfied, but his face smoothed out. "If he does anything, Genesis, tell me." Angeal rested his hand on Genesis' shoulder, both battle-honed and frail. The sore ends picked themselves out of the atmosphere, and Angeal let out a genuine laugh. He poked Genesis' cheek with a finger and winked. "Dumbapple pie in my apartment later. Just us and Seph - Zack has orientation."

"Sure," Genesis washed his face with a pure smile.  
"And there's news on Wutai. From Seph."

* * *

 _Pale-brown trees, ancient yet strong branches._  
Twisted and contorted, but beautiful.  
Home.  
Pale-purple apples were the jewels.  
Juicy, nutritious. The vitamins deep and ancient.  


_Sinfully-pure air, thick with the untainted.  
The wind was cool, the grass like cushions against their bare feet. _

_Sephiroth's face knotted into the expression that meant "confused". He never did this in the presence of normal citizens. He did this often with Professor Hojo, but Hojo is always boring when it came to answering questions. Sephiroth only felt comfortable being confused when he was around Angeal and Genesis. He didn't know what's about the feeling it gave off - was it comfort? Amicability? There were so many things the boundless science he knew by heart could never explain._

_Why did Angeal and Genesis always smile at him? Why don't the scientists and Professor Hojo? Why is the air so pure here in Banora, when it's just lights and antiseptic in the lab? Why are the scientists and the staff so unemotional, why are they like robots? Why couldn't they be like Angeal and Genesis, always carefree, always -_

_Countless times, the three of them talked about emotions. Humanity. Feelings. Sephiroth couldn't understand them, but he could feel them. Or maybe he couldn't understand them because it opposed everything he grew up to - labs, following orders, tests, injections, scientists, tests, injections. That was his world. The smell of antiseptic, the glaring lights. The unspeakable abominations in Professor Hojo's lab. The sting of the injections. The unbearable side-effects. Countless nights with no sleep. Pain. Cold. Brutal analytical nature, molded into perfection so accurately and sharply that it hurt. Angeal and Genesis lived in a world so different from his, as if light-years away. But they lived in the same earth, in the same universe._

_"These apples have a high nutritional concentration," Sephiroth said. "Is it caused by the fresh, ancient soil of Banora?"_

* * *

The taste, the perfect combination of sweet-bitter. Endless flavor that came with nutrition. Now twenty-five years old and eating dumbapples since forever, Genesis still believed that they were what made the three of them so naturally strong. The redhead focused on the flavor, the flavor he could never get enough of.

Sephiroth and Angeal had the same intentions, but the news from Wutai couldn't wait. "Last week's loss was a large casualty," Sephiroth began. Anyone could tell that he was fighting not to lick his lips and savor the sweetness of the pie, but Sephiroth was Sephiroth and Sephiroth was brutal when it came to discipline and self-control. His voice was calculating, emotionless and analytical to the point of brutality. General Sephiroth, wargod of gaia. General Sephiroth, the angel of death.  
"I am planning to send more operatives and crush their persistence as soon as possible. Lazard agrees, and tomorrow we will decide who to send. Someone serious."  
The three of them take it in like a story. No emotions showing on their faces. In war, we think with our brains, not our hearts. We use logic as brutally as possible. There is absolutely no place for the illogical. Gaia have mercy when you start feeling.

"How serious, Seph?" Angeal asked, his voice and face grave all of a sudden. But it was an acceptable emotion to show.  
Sephiroth looked to the side, but Genesis and Angeal knew he was calculating a hundred steps ahead, assessing the situation a hundred steps in advance. "We've lost a crucial amount of momentum. It might take us weeks to catch up, even if we send a 1st class."

"So you plan to send any of us three," Genesis commented, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. But he couldn't deny - his brain and his heart was sharpening to that brutal, manipulative danger he never failed to show to anyone.

"Probably Lieutenant Gates or another Lieutenant accompanying Angeal or you. Lazard wants me here for awhile." The raven and crimson commander shared glances seconds or minutes long. Genesis couldn't really guess. He felt more alive and more aware recently - paranoid, if he took out the sugar.  
Again, that rising surge welled up from deep down. Again, he was powerless to even control it. It just attacked, like before. And he's completely swallowed. All that Genesis could register was Angeal's name painfully-loud to his ears, his best friend's name urgently sticking to his brain all of a sudden.  
Red frustration, white-hot anger. He could register Angeal's sudden embrace - or restraint. Sephiroth's face instantly swept from perfect statue to "concerned". - no, more than concerned.

The next moments were blurry. It's another five minutes, at least, before the redhead could clearly register the urgent calls of "What's wrong" and "Genesis". When the redhead blinked, Angeal's palms were on his shoulders, as if preventing him from doing something. Sephiroth was also standing now, a minor flaw in his usual pole posture.

He couldn't quite point out what just happened.


	3. It Calls

_Chapter 3: It Calls_

_Like a siren to my ear. Should I have ignored it? I wonder._

"I'll be back when this is over," a reassuring smile graced Angeal's face, sculpting it into something more noble. Genesis couldn't help but shoot him back another smile. For comfort, maybe. But every single time, every single time when they had to leave each other, it was like this.  
Duty calls, missions to be accomplished. _In the name of justice. Or in the name of honor. Or duty. Or manipulation._

_This is an endless, vicious cycle. Behind the perfection, there is a curtain of darkness. bribery. injustice._

_And there's us._

Every goodbye uttered on the way to an assignment could always be the last. Not even Sephiroth could really arrive at a solution. One friend or two at the face of death, dancing and killing away as Shinra expects them to flawlessly execute. The ones left behind to safety hold on to each second, waiting with bated breath. not feeling their friend's wounds or sudden gashes in the battlefield. safe in the shelter of their apartments or meeting rooms or whatever.

Genesis always felt that if he could feel Angeal or Sephiroth's wounds, too, while he's safe at the compound, everything would be better.

"Godspeed, dear friend," Sephiroth's voice was cool, frozen with intense emotion. Genesis was always jealous at how the man could control such powerful waves of feelings. " _But you're Genesis, silly_ ," the redhead would tell himself. " _Sephiroth is Sephiroth._ "

When the helicopter had departed and the runway was clear, it's Sephiroth's brutal footsteps that broke the dry silence. _He has duties_ , Genesis thought to himself, _and we have our pledges_. He walked back to his office with anxious thoughts pointing to Angeal. His safety. _My friend, godspeed. May the Goddess keep you._

Zack Fair was there, trudging the hallways and loaded with happy-and-not sighs. Obviously on his way to the apartment he shared with his mentor. The jumpy 3rd-class was doing something between bouncing and stretching. Both subconsciously and not, Genesis collected himself. His mako-enhanced gaze followed Zack's figure as if he was prey.  
" _What do you want from him, Genesis_?" the redhead could almost _hear_ Angeal's criticizing voice. He could feel his head reel and spin painfully. There was a foreign current that's invading his consciousness so fluidly and not, at the same time. His thoughts? Uncontrollable. His memories? His, but being twisted to something unknown.

After eternities, he heard that same painfully-white, painfully-draining voice. Genesis wouldn't really call it a voice though. It was too monstrous, too foreign, too _malicious_.

_I don't want to hear you_ , his mind shot out the thought to his surprise. _Go away._

Something said no.  
The silhouette of Zack Fair burned red and vivid before the redhead's scorching-hot eyes. He wanted to jump and slay the clueless child then and there, but the redhead's footsteps continued on. Stalled his intentions. Zack Fair was humming, and had no intentions of looking back. Genesis fingered the Death materia in his pocket, and that was when the red vanished. Into thin air.

The cadet turned a corner. Genesis stopped, breathing hard. sweat painfully glistening on his face.

_gzgzgzgzgzgzgzgzgzgzgz_

_Like something that's been there all along. Something that's been hiding, slinking at the dark shadows inside me, waiting for the right time to possess me. It's real. I can't kill it. I don't know where it comes from or what it wants. I can't chase it away._

The innocent piece of paper sat on Genesis' side table, bearing an angry and important message. Or description. Or observation. That night, sleep was restless. Filled with urgent calls of the Goddess' name, wet and desperate from his lips. He kept seeing Zack's face in his dreams, but the next morning was fresh and new. Every single corner Genesis could round to remember anything from last night's restlessness was barred.

His PHS beeped.

_Your reports are due in 0200 hours, Genesis. I expect them on my office soon._

The redhead yawned. "There's no escape...only work."

That morning in his office, Genesis felt surprisingly normal, for once. He was even interested in the reports he was obliged to look over, filter, re-type, and present later to Sephiroth, words and scribblings ordered to pristine perfection. The Wutai War had been going on for years now. For SOLDIER and the operatives, it was ages. To Genesis, it was a senseless rollercoaster that got nowhere. Shinra would appear to be winning, then Wutai gains an upperhand. A few hours later, it's emergency mode. Everyone had gotten used to the hectic, irregular schedule. It was a remarkable growth for SOLDIER - from its lowest cadets to the great General Sephiroth, the tests of flexibility were innumerable now. The growth was remarkable.

And so were the losses, as the reports sitting on his desk report. The prices were high. Though there weren't any drastic sacrifices yet, that didn't change a thing.  
" _Sephiroth...the day will come when it's only you and I and Angeal left of this. I promise._ " It was inevitable - Genesis wasn't stupid - the numbers, the graph didn't look very promising.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Zack Fair was a god, still in the sculpting process. His stance was still imperfect - a few degrees too low or some joints too tense - but with time and more practice he will be perfect. Perfect as his mentor...maybe even more. His sparring technique was an undefined mixture of Angeal's and Sephiroth's, but there was that little edge that was completely the boy's. The puppy was playful, but when channeled to the right things, he was _brilliant. Perfect._ Having this insane energy, Zack could last _hours_ longer than the average cadet. Genesis was impressed. He didn't even try to deny it.

"Puppy, we all hold high expectations for you," Genesis idly whispered to himself, or to Sephiroth who was spectating the training simulation with him.  
"Indeed," the general returned. "Frankly speaking, Cadet Fair's performance is a bit more lethargic than usual. It seems his mentor does have a positive effect on him."

"Then our friend has been doing a splendid job, then, Seph...aren't you pleased?"  
Sephiroth answered with a curt nod, though Genesis knew ever since their earliest days that the SOLDIER General always held in bottles - no, oceans more.  
Zack Fair's hyperactive, battle-dancing figure is fast as thunder. He's reduced to a dark-purple blur, sharp and agile as he swung his sword with excellent accuracy and superb strength. Precise. And powerful. So much potential at every single moment. _This boy will be a someone deadly_ , Genesis noted to himself. The mission simulation went on, and the two soldiers followed, observed, scrutinized, analyzed every single movement. How many breaths and angles Zack was off, what he could've missed, how the boy could compensate.

The task became either too draining or too monotonous. Genesis' eyes turned to the legendary warrior beside him, who was concentrated and not concentrated at the same time. Passive, but still paying attention. Tall...no - tall was an understatement. Genesis was tall, but Sephiroth? A head taller. Worlds more perfect. So perfect, so untouchable.  
 _General Sephiroth. Shinra's hero. SOLDIER's almighty head. Angel of death._

_The silver curtain that graces your face_  
flows down your stunning height,  
moon-kissed.  
Strong as titanium,  
softer than spidersilk. 

Genesis could recall that fateful day, morning, afternoon, evening, in-battle, drunk, contemplating.  
That fateful day..eleven years ago.  
The redhead would start every single recollection like this: " _It's so faraway now. We were young. Wilder than tigers. Freer than the wind. No scars of shame or memories of blood chaining us, no ghosts of those we've slain haunting us_ "

Sephiroth was eleven, Angeal twelve, and Genesis thirteen.

_Hojo's face was unpleasant and ugly, his arm clutched the child's as if he was a chicken to be butchered. To Genesis' surprise...or admiration, the boy didn't even flinch. Being very honest, he appeared to be unbothered. He had a very different air about him. something Genesis never ever felt or saw in his life. something he wanted for himself, too._  
For Genesis, it became admiration at first meeting. And jealousy. And love.  


_The silver-haired angel was untouchable. Free. Hojo may have kept him in the labs for as long as he lived, but the boy was someone independent. A strong, determined current against the miserable, painful lab-life he was born in. He did stink of antiseptic and mako and test tubes but it didn't define him. This boy was something else.  
_

_Someone the world will never forget._

_"Boys," Hollander's warm voice cut through the tense silence. "Professor Hojo has brought his most successful experiment with him. Angeal, Genesis," he called to the surprised two, "this is Sephiroth. He has never had a playmate. I'm sure both of you could be one for him."_  
Hojo's default scowl was plastered on his disgusting face. Hollander looked cheerful. Hopeful, as if something magnificent had happened. Sephiroth just stood there, like valuable metal to be left untouched.  


_Genesis could read between the lines._

_He'd seen this silver kid before in some of his dreams. Sephiroth was sad when Angeal and Genesis weren't with him, and blissful when they were together. But those were dreams. And even kid Genesis knew dreams weren't the reality._

Sephiroth continued watching. Not even his breathing could be heard - not even with Genesis' enhanced hearing. This was an everyday fact. How many moments have passed has he wondered, standing next to or beside or behind Sephiroth, whether the general was human enough to breathe? To breathe like everyone else?

_"Angeal, he's a total weirdo." This earned him a soft shoulder jab. reprimanding.  
_

_"Don't be too hard on him!" his best friend's voice was both empathic and rejecting. "He's probably never seen a...human being except those lab guys from Shinra."_

_Genesis snorted. wrinkled his face in disgust and crossed his arms. He shot his fiery gaze to the window, avoiding Angeal's face and eyes. like he always did when he denied something or didn't want Angeal to find out something. "I know that, 'geal. But. Who cares?"_  
Sighing, the raven-haired boy drew closer. swung his arm around Genesis' frail shoulders. Genesis was a year older than him, but it was Angeal who felt like a mother.  


_"I know you really care for him, Gen," Angeal's face softened, and he did look more angelic with that sharp smile. Sharp, but not slicing. Just that right amount of trust and wariness only Angeal could wear.  
The redhead jerked away._ Oh no, not again...how can he understand this well..  
" _No," he challenged himself to believe in his denial. "I don't like him at all. He's...so...he's...unusual."_  
 _This earned him a wink from Angeal instead. "No, you're a bad liar, Genesis."_

_The night passed in laughter and the usual jokes. When he closed his eyes, his stubborn denial was gone._

"Well done, Cadet Fair," General Sephiroth's "SOLDIER General" voice pulled the redhead out of his deep, soothing recollection. He had no time to savor it with a small smile. Zack Fair gave them both a shy, but honest, ear-splitting grin. He was out of breath and bathing in sweat, but he stood up straight. pretended this was nothing. It was an almost noble sight, if Genesis was in the best of moods.

"Thank you, General Sephiroth, sir," Zack said carefully, with much more confidence than the average pee-your-pants cadet. natural. Turning to Genesis, he shot a weaker grin. "Thank you too, Commander Rhapsodos."

"That was quite impressive. Our expectations are high, Fair. Train hard."

" _I will be a hero_ ," it's written in Zack's eyes.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

" _...and the hero she has sent_ "  
It was the same boy. The fierce, but beautiful black wolf.  
This time, his piercing ocean-blue eyes knew the redhead better. but didn't see through deeper just yet.

There was a fallen "angel", with a single obsidian wing. Feathers dark with hatred, the wingspan marked with agony. the smooth, almost sinister curve tainted. mislead. but still something beautiful. _Unbreakable._

_Shinra, you control me...NO LONGER_ , Genesis heard his own voice amidst the numb pool of sound and feelings and sights.

Then there was another angel, silver as the purest, noblest metal. Dynamite and beauty, something Genesis was and wasn't at the same time. Dynamite and beauty. The beautiful silver angel was torn. torn in between something. _Burdened. trapped._ A single transparent, almost invisible wing - a miracle or a curse only the black wolf and the black angel were allowed to see.

Genesis knew the beautiful silver angel denied his wing. wanted to rip it out. wanted to get back at the world. the beautiful silver angel was crying invisible tears.

"... _my dear friend, open your eyes to the truth that knocks at your door! YOU'RE NOT BLIND ANYMORE! THE GODDESS HAS GIVEN YOU SIGHT!_ " he heard his crimson rapier and his slashes and his swings singing, painting the words for the denying silver angel to accept. they were more painful. they held a secret. or a long-buried truth carved on a clean, white surface.

The beauty of the silver angel burned in those same flames. All that was left was the dynamite. the ugly, destructive side.

"... _dear fallen friend who cries for me,_ " a voice Genesis knew before started in his head, " _please. save me._ "

"SEPHIROTH!"  
Drenched in sweat, his whole body tingling with that numbness that started a few days ago, Genesis was pulled to consciousness. The late sunset streaming in from his open window bronzed his pale, shivering skin. There was no warmth. the orange and yellow almost suffocated him. He wanted to go back to that world. to whatever dimension that was. It was calling him. it _NEEDED_ him.

" _They're not nightmares from traumas_ ," he started mapping it out in his head again, _"they're not traumas. I don't think they're my fears either._ "  
Genesis _was_ and _is_ a powerful dreamer, ever since he was but a kid. Of course it started with mild, small visions that always came true or close in a way or another. It kept growing. growing. But it never bothered him - it was more of a blessing, really.  
When SOLDIER life started, more visions came and visited his sleep but they didn't really bother him still.  
When they were promoted to 1st-class and appointed Commanders, it was blood and gore and ghosts. souls of the angry men he'd slain. But they vanished as soon as they visited. More often, it was visions of predicted war losses or deadly holes in their strategies. It did help.

And now...there was intense _drama_ in his dream life. A story he knew and didn't know at the same time. Zack. Angeal. Sephiroth. Him. Occasional but meaningful inserts of LOVELESS.

" _The words are taking on new meanings. . ._ _Goddess...I just hope none of this ever happens.._ "

But he knew it will. These nightmares, these dreams - were _serious_. Way too vivid and mysterious to be forgotten.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The sword-practice room for 1st classes were usually empty on weekends (not that the three friends went there) - everyone else was way too busy having fun. drinking out, watching movies, buried in paperwork, hanging out with few friends in the streets of Midgar.  
Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth, on regular weekends, were usually buried with paperwork or out in a restaurant. if Genesis hadn't managed to drag them with him for shopping.

His own heart was pounding crazily against his ribs. The mako in his bloodstream was circulating, passing a second layer of strength to his bones.

_Balestra_. _Lung_.

After Genesis had won the legendary crimson rapier, his entire library of polished, mastered sword strokes had to be painfully reshaped. The rapier was ideal for fencing, but there wasn't a fencing specialist yet during Genesis' cadet days. It was about the time when they were promoted to 1st-class...Genesis had enough money to buy a mountain of fencing books - he was way too proud to hire a specialized instructor.

His entire repertoire, all the skills and strokes and slashes he'd spent years of sleepless nights mastering - had to be reshaped. How many lost duels, how many blunders did it cost him? Infinite. If it weren't for his advanced, _genius_ magic, Genesis wouldn't have survived the fatal battles and wars and missions 1st-classes were assigned. If Angeal and Sephiroth weren't there...

It took him three years to match his rapier with his sword technique. The training and the struggle was painful - worse than trying to change the letters of the alphabet in his head, the letters he knew since kindergarten. It was worth it, though. Rapier was a more than promising sword. His new style and dance were something not even Angeal and Sephiroth could copy. And how many fencers were there in SOLDIER? Almost none. SOLDIER majored in the sword, but the class was brute and... _inartistic_.

The most fun skill rapier taught him was perhaps the balestra. SOLDIER cadets had been taught the skill, but not to the refined point Genesis learned and executed perfectly. The "SOLDIER balestra" was more of a lunge-and-slash, but Genesis completely decorated it. A lunge, then chained with a fleche, a normal slash, or a magic stroke from rapier.

_Aggressive opening_ , as their books called it. Sephiroth and Genesis always took the first move in any duel or monster fight. Genesis always started from the shadows if possible; Sephiroth was always out in the open but hiding himself at the same time. Angeal, on the other hand, was _always_ defensive.

_Fleche. Then retreat._

_Flick._

_Slash._

Genesis' arm and shoulder ached. but he didn't want to stop. _Concentrate. Focus. Don't let those nightmares control you._

_Slash. Jump._

_Fleche._

_Concentrate. CONCENTRATE!_

_Dodge._

_Don't think about it. Don't you dare start thinking of it, Genesis Rhapsodos._

_Slash._

The silver General stood watching silently like a ghost, a few centimeters away from the glass door. A rare drop of sweat trickled down his flawless face. A rare, tight clench of his fist followed. " _Genesis...what is wrong?_ " he whispered to himself, shocked at the sight before him. This wasn't sword-god Genesis. _This is an anxious, disturbed you..._

 


	4. Unnamed Fear

Chapter 4: Unnamed Fear

It was never a new thing, but Genesis always had to remind himself...  
Sephiroth has ZERO alcohol tolerance.  
The fact was unbelievable. A lion that has 3D vision in the dark, water, and dust..beyond-ultrasonic hearing, not including a million more unmentionable "adjustments" Sephiroth has and will have...  
Genesis laughed it off as a joke whenever they drank out. _Hmph, maybe the bastard is just pretending.._

Neon lights' annoying but harmless glare were magnified through their enhanced SOLDIER vision, and when the thought hit Genesis he swallowed the urge to spit out his scotch. After all, he has already lost count of how many of their "enhancements" and "gifts" are just toxic outside the battlefield.

He tried to shut his ears against these commonplace, everyday noises. the rustle of the clubbers' clothing as wild dancers bumped against each other. profanely-intensified smooches, licks, and purrs thanks to his hearing. plain and drunk gossip. Inconveniently unbearable, especially when his companion was barely unconscious as of the moment.

The 1sts preferred to use earplugs during occasions like these, but they did forget to bring some today. Genesis blinked, because they never went to peasantic clubs of this sort in the first place. unless something interesting caught their eyes.

Gazing boorishly at his just-fallen friend, dead-drunk head down the table, Genesis sighed. Amidst the slightly-undone mess of his genius brains, he could not process that their poor decision - _I don't care, I don't give a damn. I want to forget for a while. Just get this monster outta my precious head.._

_Angeal...luck be with you, dearest friend._

The monster gnawing at his mind...absent for a mysterious reason right now...is it because of the alcohol?

 _Genesis, stop, I don't like where this is going,_ but he smirked despite himself, anyway. So...just numb himself out, maybe it doesn't have to be all the way... _it might work._

The redhead's bill is almost up to a good one thousand gil, not that the drinks are anything expensive. More nerves are undone, most just numbed-out. Whether it's from the neon eyesores or the slippery touch of scotch on his consciousness, he cannot fathom; they just mixed. But the alcohol could not numb the lingering fear, it could not drown out the paranoia...

Two thousand gil.

They lie; alcohol doesn't clear or take away a single cloud of unhappiness. A drop limply slips out, rolling fast down his reddened cheek. Was if self-pity? Or mere disappointment? Should they have gone somewhere else? Should he have gone alone?

Three thousand gil.

_The monster says hello._

_gsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsg_

"It's nothing, Seph. I promise," but Genesis could _feel_ his voice crack. The hangover rendered him weak, will-less, explosive, crazy, he couldn't decide - there's only confusion. Plus the million Bahamuts having a party in his head. _And damn pure frustration._

He gritted his teeth, and even if his stomach kept lurching, he bottled it all up, all in, all in, all in.. _Seph, you don't have to know._

The Silver General's voice was thrice as dark as graphite and a million times sharper than Masamune.

_But you were dead-drunk last night, too..._

Sephiroth's semi-yell cut through the dull but unbearable buzz. " _THREE THOUSAND GIL?! WHAT HAS COME TO YOU, GENESIS?!_ "

 _I am sorry, Seph...I'm sorry!_ "Leave. Please, Seph. Now. I'm not in any state-"  
"To what?"  
"Just leave. Let's talk when I am better."

To his surprise and sunk hope, Sephiroth did step out of the apartment door.  
Something breaks inside the redhead's soul. A part of his heart, maybe. It ached. But Genesis knew, he goddamn knew very well that this was just the beginning. or even way before that.  
A PHS beep. The redhead groaned and swore, but he flipped it open anyway. _Sephiroth?_

It slipped from his grip as he desperately tried to pretend he hasn't read anything.

_gsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsg_

Genesis didn't know if this was right or wrong - if he could really ask this of Lazard. But he gambled, anyway.

"Leave?"  
He straightered, tried to make his posture perfect as if that would determine the approval of his request. Director Lazard furrowed his brow, looked up to the illuminated ceiling for answers. _Genesis is never like this_. _But oh well, how do you know?  
_ Reflection of light on the surface of his glasses, a chance, a chance. He tilted them again. hid the worry in his grey-green eyes, or at least tried to.

"I shall consider...but is there something bothering you, Genesis? You haven't been well these days.

_gsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsg_

The redhead was literally hovering on the floor on the way back to his apartment, trying to get away, trying to disappear. No one could notice or pick up that he was more desperate than he looked.  
In spite of circumstances, he smiled. _Pity is never necessary._

_Look at you.  
_ _Shaking. You can't even walk properly.  
_ _And you don't even know what's wrong with you._

_I do know! You're the last thing I need in my head, you monster!_

_Oh, tell me...who is the TRUE monster here? You or I?_

The redhead suddenly remembered the mail. " _Your pupils were blood-red._ "

_That's right, Genesis.  
_ _You...are the monster_

He woke up on his apartment carpet again, eyes dazed with the darkness of sunset and his bones just...a worse mess. The deep-red walls were identical with the approaching twilight and it pained him - it just pained him that twilight grew more and more tense around everything now. Suffocation, impending doom. _When? How? Why?_  
The monster that gnaws at me.  
Inside my head  
through a deep, deep heart

A song...in his memory, a poem in his heart... _I do live for the gift._

 _"The bubbles of fate that scorch far_  
The haven of the past, you can not turn back to anymore  
When a red, red moon profanes a clear night sky  
Pray for the fated hero, with utter faith"

Hero..  
Hero.

Genesis cracked into maniac laughter, convulsing on the spot.  
Unkempt jet-black spikes and ocean-blue eyes do not make it. Exotic look, exotic aura can't just make a whole perfect image. Heroes are sacred, heroes are sacred. A puppy who can't calm down isn't a hero!

 _I loathe him. But when "hero" is spoken, when "hero" is thought of, when "hero" is sang, when "hero" is begged for, he is the goddamn face that comes to my mind._  
Yet this hatred is...is not mine.  
It is not mine! 

__gsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsg_ _

_"_ Why, sir?!"  
"I'm sorry, Genesis. Someone here disapproves.."  
"Sir?" The redhead tried to hold it all in. The familiar puddle of jet-black leather and semi-metal straps looked somewhat different today. Covered in that sharpness, that frozen, frozen, frozen air, is someone Genesis could only half-recognize.

"Show your respect...SOLDIER 1st-Class Genesis."  
An edged whisper. A pang. A tear. What else? Nothing new to expect.  
Fifty-fifty; half friendship, half-moral. Yet the "concern" edge of the balance is heavier today. It's a new, kinder version of General Sephiroth's voice that he couldn't really bear to hear right now.

Lazard spoke again, and the blood could tell Genesis could see through his worry then. their worry. their concern. But could he accept it?  
"Situations are too tense for our comfort. 1st-Class Angeal is on a vital position as well. You both are to be on stand-by. You and Sephiroth," the director sighed, then motioned to said general. "He shall fill you in."

There was more to Sephiroth's subsequent nod. Genesis detected additional worry...and intentions. good ones.  
"Do talk it over, both of you," it's the more humane, amicable edge of the SOLDIER Director's voice. The understanding father who nurtured them but never let them forget their bearings...their duty. their commitments.  
He rose from that imposing wall of an office chair and gave the redhead a firm pat on the shoulder. A pat Genesis knew he needed, but also one he didn't really think he deserved.

_Foolish...I totally forgot all about Wutai. And Angeal too...what more selfish of a SOLDIER could there be?_

"Dismissed."

__gsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsg_ _

62nd floor, west wing, courtyard. helicopter platform. Midgar air was and will always be as murky as its muddy sky. or ever more.  
 _Angeal is in constant danger, and here I am...asking for a leave. For what? What am I really trying to accomplish?_

"Genesis..I am aware that you are in dire need of space..and time," Sephiroth whispered as if reading his friend's thoughts. The words were stark, even against the city howls.

Half-ashamed and half-pleased, the redhead turned to the side. not really sure which emotion to follow.  
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to be selfish."  
"I won't ask what is it that bothers you this greatly-"  
"Sephiroth-"  
"But you have to promise you'll tell me when you can. Do not let this affect your performance. Do not forget your callings. You are Commander Rhapsodos, 1st-Class SOLDIER. Is that understood, SOLDIER?"

Was it worry? Disappointment? Fear? Friendship? The redhead couldn't pick. Sephiroth was and will always be a mysterious pain in the ass.  
A 2nd-Class would've fainted of anxiety. A fellow 1st-Class would've swallowed consecutive lumps. But Genesis was Genesis, and the redhead is as fearless as a ghost. more than people say, more than his two best friends think.

 _Drops. Ripples. Gurgles. Fluid, smooth, course of a gentle river...  
_ A warm cerulean glow streamed from Genesis' gloved fingers. A ghost of a smile followed.  
 _The river speaks...erupts as strong as a volcano but a million times more graceful._

Sephiroth turned to the artificial sight. The cerulean glow was being fleshed-out, and the materia's light is a soothing sight against the murky Midar nightsky.

_WATER!_

An easy snivel slipped out of Sephiroth's lips, but not too uncharacteristic.  
"I do assume you've mass-purchased the shop's stock of Fire materia. A wonder you didn't use them just now.."  
Genesis smiled, then broke into laughter. Trying to find stars in the filthy sky, he noted that it's been a damn long time since he was last able to...laugh. like this.

__gsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsgsggsgsgsgsg_ _

"The undercover 2nd-Classes we've dispatched have arrived at 1300 hours today, Genesis," Sephiroth's voice was even more robotic across the PHS. "Look over their reports."  
 _Why me?_  
"And..I've sent the patrol mission details to your PHS as well."  
The redhead sighed, not sure what to think. Was this just added stress, or a chance for distraction?  
"Is Ange coming home any time soon, Seph?"  
"Two more days. Unless an emergency occurs..or he finishes early."

Sipping his Banora Apple wine, he hit "Accept".

_Genesis,  
_ _The President, Lazard, and the rest of the Battle Unit officers are having a highly-confidential meeting scheduled in 2000 hours. The Turks will be securing the perimeter as well. Do not cause trouble as you're going in my place. After I'm done with these cadet reviews, I will join you. Until then, duty calls._

A discreet knock on his office door snapped him out of his thoughts.  
 _It's just 1200 hours. But anyway..._

"Commander Rhapsodos, sir!" The 2nd-Class broke to a statue-crisp salute. Genesis noted that that the SOLDIER's belt was an awful two-inches off. "2nd-Class Lee reporting in!"  
The redhead smiled, putting aside his suspicion for now. "At ease, Lee. And please do shut the door, will you?"  
Lee gulped, but followed the order, anyway.  
"Sit down and place those papers on my desk." He did so, now on a seat but he looked like he was ready to be slashed in half with Rapier.  
 _Boy, this one looks like he doesn't even know what Rapier is._

"How is the situation?"  
"After overcoming hardships and extremely-organized operations with Commander Hewley, SOLDIER has taken up the fronts. Our casualties...are immense. 1st-Class Arc has sustained severe injuries and is in critical condition."  
 _Something is off.  
_ _This doesn't feel right at all..._

"Lee, was it?"  
"Yes, Commander."  
"Which unit were you assigned to?"  
"33rd SOLDIER, sir."  
 _This sounds wrong. And SOLDIERs just mention only the number..there's no real need to say "SOLDIER" because it's quite obvious he's one. If he actually is._

"Pardon me. Do continue."

"Very well, sir. Kono Hill and Gasai River have been taken out of our hands, unfortunately."  
Genesis rose from his seat and started pacing, pretending not to notice the nervous swallow he elicited from Lee.  
"Lee...are the troops in disarray?"  
 _Let's see. I gotta test this, this phony stinks._

"Umm...no, sir. It has been hectic but Commander Hewley managed all of us quite well."  
 _Hmm..._  
"Pardon me, Lee - in which unit was 1st-Class Arc assigned to? I have forgotten."  
Lee's face lost some of its color.  
 _Bull's eye._  
"Thir-thiry third SOLDIER, sir."

_He's in the 1st unit. Everyone in SOLDIER knows that. This spy is dumb..or at least the people that sent him._

"So he's with you?"  
"Y-yes, sir."

 _AVALANCHE? Wutai? Who sent him? And as far as I know, there aren't any "Lee"s in 2nd...  
_ "Thank you for your time, Lee." The redhead sat back down, adrenaline automatically rushing through his veins.  
 _This spy looks new and innocent, hmm..._  
"Let me offer you this 20-year-old apple wine...hand-harvested and nurtured in the richly-organic orchards of Banora Province. Do have a glass."  
The redhead took a sip. Lee followed. then fell to the ground.

"Sir Tseng? Good afternoon. Please do pick up this...useful material in my office. Yes, now, please. It is of convenient importance. Yes, thank you."

Pleased with himself, the Crimson Commander smirked, helping himself to another cup. "You see, a 2nd wouldn't be entrusted with intel as detailed and objective as this. And there is absolutely no way you could know Arc's conditions. I do know now that Kono and Gasai are in our hands now and flooded with stand-by spies. Wutai, we are not that foolish.."

"Yes, Seph?"  
"Thank you for your work, Genesis."  
He smirked again. "No trouble."  
"Angeal's helicopter is landing in ten minutes. But apparently the entire dispatch unit that just arrived earlier today are spies. Thank you again, Genesis."  
"No problem, again. Are you heading over there right now?"  
"Listen. They are obviously targeting Angeal. He just reported to me he is not in the best of conditions. The rest of the Turks have already secured the perimeter and possible entrypoints from the building. Run through the stairs from the 61st floor and the bridge from the easy wing. I'll follow shortly."


	5. Those Eyes That Never Strayed

Chapter 5: Those Eyes That Never Strayed

"Finalize all case reports. I'm dead-tired."

"Yes, sir."  
Genesis sighed.  
2300 hours.

The heavy march footsteps droning through the entire SOLDIER compound finally faded out. It's been hours, hours - long hours. It's curfew time, but everyone knew and understood hearts just can't replenish their strength like bodies can. Not after being drowned in chain, hectic chaos that seemed to go on for goddamn forever. not after one of your worn-out Commanders was chased home despite being in a helicopter that's supposed to be safe, spies revealed only when it's almost too late. And directly, it's none of SOLDIER's faults.

Can their scars really speak out and fight for them?  
The redhead sighed again.

A faded, white zigzag across the line between arm and shoulder - a scar bestowed by a mysterious summon he defeated years back.  
The clock continued ticking. Genesis found a smirk on his face.

A gash only a few inches shy from his collarbone - spar accident...Masamune does cut sharp and deep.

 _How many more scars?_  
 _How many more scars until I become a true SOLDIER?_  
Echoing in his worried head, these questions asked so often in the past felt nostalgic. The redhead cut his own chuckle, recollecting his younger, innocent self.

_How many scars until I become a 1st class?  
How many more scars until I become Sephiroth's equal?_

The redhead sighed again.

"Sephiroth...this is not a game." he needed, he desperately needed to pack more urgency in those words. Damn urgent, General Sir.  
Both of them already knew Shinra isn't going to stop. It will never stop. Shinra is too proud, too cruel, too filthy, too greedy.

Even Angeal was already pleading, his voice formal and composed when he's trying to suppress intense emotions. "General, you,, of all people understand that this cannot go on."  
Sephiroth repaid them with silence every single time, but they all knew.

They were powerless.  
Swords and materia and fists and enhancements were meaningless.  
They were puppets, just like everyone else. The only difference? They were killing machines.

 _But we have feelings too, human feelings, goddamn it._  
"Shinra is oblivious, 'geal, Seph. We don't matter." Automatically, the three of them glared into the messy night, knowing that this wasn't the first time, this wasn't new.  
But everything was definitely getting out of hand. Oh, a messy night, indeed... Angeal could've checked in on HQ safe and sound if it weren't for those High-danger summon creatures that turned the tables. High-danger summons, incantation complete.

_sgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgs_

The redhead pushed tonight's mess away, melting down the aches of his mind and body in the water. For a few, fragile seconds his thoughts became the water's and the water's flow soothed, no- almost replaced the harsh mako in his bloostream.

_Let me forget for awhile.  
_ _I am not as strong as they think I am  
_ _Not as strong as they fear_

Ironically, the heat soothing his aching muscles jerked him back to those unpleasant first-times.  
He recalled spitting out 700-gil spring water after 1st-class mako dosage made it taste like glue. And that day when he had to put his beloved medium-rare steak back until it was singed just because blood made him vomit now. How he failed a strategy theory oral just because his throat was sore, vomiting his own blood out for a week to make space for mako in his system.

_Let me go back.  
_

Wutai is definitely becoming a meaningless war, no - it was already meaningless to begin with. absolutely no question. The time, the effort, the headache, the suffering, the dangers, the casualties, as if the list was that short...as days ticked on, all these became more and more pointless. Genesis Rhapsodos had no patriotic discipline and commitment like Angeal, but he felt shameful, as if he disgraced the SOLDIERs leaving home and fighting and dying at their call.  
He ground his fist against the cold, wet wall until the tiles cracked. until he bled.

"Sephiroth...please find a way to stop this," Genesis imagined himself begging the General _personally_. But it would add salt to the wound, wouldn't it? It's all simply too unfair...to unfair...not only to the Wutaian citizens falling by Shinra's cruelty...but to the SOLDIERs who draw the blades. _And we thought SOLDIER was all about honor_.

 _"Please, Seph. You are a human being too!"  
_ _It was a rough summer day._  
Rough was an understatement.

_"Angeal!" they were fourteen, the age for the serious genetic injections to start. For Project Sephiroth, that meant a million more hells of those, a million times more painful. Of course he was already used to it to the point of numbness or just lingering afterpricks, but that didn't comfort any of them. at all._

_Genesis' pillow was soaked, wet - oh goddess, the tears just couldn't run out. This was too unfair. Sephiroth is only a person, a boy...not a specimen!_

_"Angeal! Please! Sephiroth is a human being too!"_   
_That damn monster Hojo is driving him insane! Seph wasn't even given a chance to be who he is, to have his own mind, his own smiles, his own tears. No freedom to even breathe the air, to wonder how the blue of the sky would taste like._

_Every time, it's "Seph, please tell me you don't want to keep living like this!"_   
_but when Hojo walks in the room, picks up Sephiroth like something less than a chicken, or holds an injection or notepads or just simply adjusts those filthy glasses...that infested smirk, that cruel glare that held all the filth in this world - it would be enough to crush anyone's dreams. anyone's hopes. Not because Sephiroth was a coward, but because Hojo was a void._

_"I am no human, Genesis," but the silver-haired boy's voice was always pleading to be broken out. to taste humanity, to taste freedom, to taste recklessness, to taste friendship, to taste love. Even if he wasn't aware, even if he would never notice._

_"You're wrong! Hojo is the filthy, inhuman animal here! Never you!"_

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

"I didn't know that that Banora wine could...save our lives," Angeal kept rubbing his chin, deep in thought as usual. The raven-haired commander was generally strong and solid - one patch from the labs and he was fine in no time.  
A waitress served their cocktails.  
Was it just him? He did his best gloating about his improvised-at-the-moment trick yesterday, but he couldn't help drifting off. _To I don't know where._

"I'm just glad it was done with, 'geal. I was tired too, even if it was just a simple plan."  
 _"I am not well these days"_ seemed to be turning to _"I don't think I'll ever be well again."  
_ trying hard to refocus, to concentrate on Angeal and Seph beside him, but he just can't. just can't.

The tension in the air was stifling. especially because they were best friends.  
All three of them wanted and desperately needed to bring up Wutai. Fan off, vent out until the words that came out of their lips weren't strained. Talk it out, deal with the feelings all three of them are suppressing.  
Find a solution.  
Find a solution.

"We're not really in any place to act on our own, and this fact is nothing new," Sephiroth states after a suffocating eternity. There's an "I'm sorry" stitched in his controlled sentence - Angeal and Genesis have known each other long enough to hear words that cannot be said.  
Genesis is an open, explosive book - but only Sephiroth and Angeal could decipher the characters written on its pages. The silver-haired general has been making looks at Angeal recentl - obviously meaning to say Genesis' actions are spiraling out of anyone's control...way beyond their understanding.

The redhead never blamed them; he only blamed himself.

_sgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgs_

"That's it, Zack," there's something soft and nurturing in Angeal's voice. "There should be a split-second before you charge the materia up - no, no - no."  
A sigh. it was patient, steady.

"Looks like the puppy's having trouble with dual-type chain attacks, hmm?" the redhead walked closer, making his presence known.  
Grateful for the break, the raven-haired mentor withdrew and let Genesis take over. Sephiroth was polishing Masamune mercilessly, eliminating every shadow of a fleck that profaned his divine sword.

"Nup, puppy. You have to wait a while," the cadet was very confused but every inch of his being sweat - "but you can also use the charge time to sneak a sneaky slash there..." a playful, borderline sadistic snivel there - "Lovely!"

Zack bounced around when the dummy fell, then his eyes grew to the size of saucers when the Ice materia popped in time to freeze the two blocks of wood. Amazed, his mouth stayed agape. Genesis laughed it off, feeling the heavy load in his mind fade away slowly.

"Genesis, your combat tactics are always so creative, my friend," chattering away as usual on the way back to apartments.  
The Genesis Smirk. "I know, 'geal."  
These days, 'ol 'geal was full of sighs and sighs. and more sighs. His eyes were full of the usual thoughtfulness but even the air spoke - there was something that happened in Wutai.  
Something new.  
Genesis didn't like it at all. _Goddamn Shinra. Screw this war!_

"If Wutai keeps going on...I worry for SOLDIER."  
"We definitely can't hold all this off much longer."  
"Sephiroth is doing his best, but you can't deny it, Gen. All of us are stuck. I worry greatly for Zack..."

_See? Disappear, Genesis! Disappear!  
They turn away from you! There's nothing left here!_

_Stop..._

_Listen to me! I have known you. I know you. Every single inch of you._

_Monster! You do not know me. You lie!_

The redhead stopped dead on his footsteps. It's negative 10 degrees on the hallways and the void circling his voice - aching red. The clarity of his mind? pitch-black.

"Is Zack...all you'll ever care about?" It was barely louder than a whisper but the scream was pitches high enough to shatter glass.

_Good boy. Turn away! Turn away from them!_

He could not comprehend, he could not make sense of the rainstorm pouring from his torn sapphire eyes. Stomping away harder and faster didn't tear his mind off the wetness, of the pain, oh goddess - the _pain_.  
When did night become a time to toss and turn and sweat in frustration and restlessness? How did jealousy and frustration become excuses to lash out?

 _"Is Zack...all you'll ever care about?"  
_ He wanted to disappear. He _needed_ to disappear.  
 _Oh Goddess...what is wrong with me?_

_Everything is wrong with you._

_You're wrong! This is all your fault!_

_Stop denying, Genesis. This is your insecurity._

_I have none! Zack is his student!_

Desperate. Desperate.  
Flailed for something. Anything.  
 _Just please get this monster outta me.._

It was round and wet, the figure all-too-familiar and precious.  
 _Begone, you monster!_  
He squeezed it harder and harder, draining the moisture out of it to kill the monster's flames...fiercer than any light, powered with memory... _yes, just please get this monster out of my head!_

Half-horrified, half-grateful, scared, proud - everything was a jumble in his heart.  
Everything was criss-cross, yet the Banora White, drained of its sweet juice, was still a perfect fit on his palm. couldn't stop him from recollecting that young, innocent Genesis...  
 _I have to fight my battles too..._

His PHS beeped.  
 _"We'll waiting for you. Usual spot, Gen. Seph cleared all of our schedules. It will be good for all of us. I understand, friend. Even I'm not well these days, so don't think much on it. Let's all get some rest and have fun tomorrow, you hear me?"_

 _Angeal...I can't believe you!_  
It was hard to breathe, and each letter he hit made it even harder. Minutes passed before he was able to type a complete reply.  
 _"Gen"._  
 _He didn't have to use that..._

Crimson blood trickled down the robust raven feathers.  
There was no sky, no air, no life.  
He doesn't know who he is nor who he was.  
No breaths or signals registered, but something filthy was caressing his lungs. It was wrong - he had to do something, but he had no instinct to act. no thoughts to formulate the next decision.

He managed to call out Angeal's name before the darkness pulled him in again.

The inhumane screeching might as well have deafened him, but he didn't know how to cover his ears. Debris lunged to his shoulders, piercing deep through yet he felt nothing. The seething rubble made it impossible for him to walk, not that his feet weren't singed. Ash clung to his trembling skin, but he's blind.

The sheen of a raven's eye.  
Soft, reassuring feathers...  
It wasn't a hopeless, ominous black. It was the rock he anchored his stormy self to all these hard years.

_Save me  
SAVE ME!_

Genesis wouldn't be surprised if the whole compound heard his yell. No - yell was a pitiful understatement. Thankfully, no one came - not even Sephiroth or Angeal. Good, he couldn't deal with them now.  
He collapsed, giving in to the sobs that tore through his numbed throat. Lonely and raw, his own tears disgusted him and it's two more hours of self-cursing and asking _"why am I so goddamn powerless"_ before those eyelids closed.

Angeal.

_He was the only kid that impressed Genesis at first sight. A kid actually worth looking at, not like those same old others with faces drier than the stalest Banora trees during famine season. The redhead could never understand how the other kids could look so unhappy - when they were free, when they didn't have parents fussing over them like some circus attraction...how come they looked so wasted compared to a caged bird like him, bound by something more invisible than rules?_

_Affection cannot be faked, Genesis learned from his parents' coldness._

_It wasn't just the weird looks that obviously couldn't spill the dark and dangerous things. Many things, actually. Genesis was three but he was different from the other children. Smarter, sharper - blunter to a fault._

_Genesis was four. He began to see things, things he was smart enough to deduce normal children shouldn't even see. Unconsciously he tried looking if other children in the town had his same sheeny eyes, the same gurgling soul. He was four, but Genesis knew there was something inside him, something only he had. He was four, but he didn't cry about it. not a tear.  
_

A full moon. Its pure-white light was Genesis' only company through the hellish midnight and even beauty seemed to mock him. as if to say "True beauty shines stellar in grimmest dark..."  
 _I feel so alone.  
_ "...and if you bury deep in sand, you have no soul to boast of."  
LOVELESS, Act II. The prisoner beats his wings against an iron cage. His feathers bleed to the muscle but it's not the crimson blood that saddens him - it's his constricted soul. _Fitting into a restricting shape, my heart cannot fly free. So it throbs, throbs, throbs in loneliness but I refuse to let it break._

_Angeal..._

_There was something that he carried with him - no, Angeal Hewley was a walking Values book. Rules and ethics and manners and morals were written all over his strong body. Yes, those sentences Genesis hated, those sentences his parents lectured him on in every possible moment, those sentences everyone seemed to need to follow._

_Angeal was a natural, even though Genesis didn't know at what. He had a lot of earth in him as Genesis had abundant water in his soul. The creepy fortune-teller's words rang in Genesis' young head..that day when those mystical gypsies from the far-off south looked out-of-place in peaceful Banora._  
The raven-haired boy's face was young, but Genesis immediately loved those eyes that were always in harmony, always in tune with nature. order. They never strayed, they were never tempted. A tantalizing, juicy apple already tumbled down Angeal's feet, but  


_"It's all right, you can pick from our tree whenever you wish. They're really tasty" could not warp his honor._

Those eyes that never strayed.  
Those eyes that always saw clearly. clearer than crystal as if people and nature were glass.  
It was the steel honor, the sheer discipline in those eyes that saved their unlucky lives more often than they'd want to recall. For the younger impulsive, capricious Gen, Angeal was a priceless savior.

Tough, hellish night it had been. But he rose; he let the sunrise burn his heart a bit. Angeal was more than his brother. The redhead wasn't a fan of morals or those values emanating from Angeal's mere presence, but he knew he dishonored himself, dishonored Angeal. _Though I do not know yet what Angeal's honor truly means._

_Let the sunrise scorch. I have hurt you, my friend. Forgive me...just give me a chance to prove my mind is still mine._

gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg

The 1st-Class Practice Room...they cut it down to " _playground_ " because " _1st-Class Practice Room sounds too boring_ ", " _The name makes no sense when we're the only ones who actually use it_ ", and " _it's easier and more convenient to refer to_ ". All Shinra Practice Rooms were equipped with the Virtual Reality System, which meant you could have a spar in Banora and climb the tall trees. or in Junon, hacking your opponent while running through the Sister Ray. or slicing off the canon without doing any real damage to the actual canon.  
Genesis remembered the day Sephiroth explained it to the both of them. They felt like ignorant peasants, with the way they were drooling and having some trouble comprehending.

Outside, it was just plain electric tiles and lighted glass. Angeal couldn't leave his thoughts today - the redhead remembers those dull months when he and Angeal were so homesick, so homesick that they set a spar in Banora's fields and ended up sleeping under those trees. Of course, they were close to the real thing only in sight and faint touch. The earthy yet magical scent, the crisp air? Even Shinra's technology couldn't emulate that.

When he stepped in, Angeal and Sephiroth have already set Sister Ray - Free Spar. The redhead waits a minute, full of thought as he lets the science and technology work.

Angeal had a flat expression on his face as he pulled the preliminary stretches. _I know he is, but I hope he's not too mad about yesterday...  
_ The Raven Commander was the slowest of them three and is their melee combatant - he was sluggish if he ever moved but that's only to charge up his Hulk strength. It was far from elegant or stylish, but that fierce strength always shuts Genesis up.

"Angeal," Genesis tried to stutter out, completely at a loss for words, not knowing how to even _start_ saying sorry. He's a 21-year-old 1st-Class SOLDIER Commander, but he felt like a lost child begging for directions. "Let me-"

"I'll have none of it, Genesis," Angeal looked at him straight, eye-to-eye. The gaze was unexpectedly what... _warm_? "It's totally fine. My friend, it shouldn't get between us."


	6. Kicks

Chapter 6: Kicks

" _I gave up my soul. To Shinra._ " _To you_.

He still denied that raging beast, snapping apart the titanium cords of their bond. The covenant, he was sure, was protected by the Goddess herself. but all divinity left it.  
All he knew was that he's the only one of them three to blame: himself.

The silent and cool message in Sephiroth's eyes provoked him further. added fuel to the fire even if it came from the iciest person in Gaia.

" _I didn't even have a soul when my mother gave birth to me._ "

Not more than a split-second later, Sephiroth softened his expression as if to add, " _until the two of you came into my life and showed me a real world_ ,"

but Genesis already looked away with a fiery scowl, missing his intended message altogether.

 _Balestra_.

Sephiroth flipped to the side with ease but refused to counter, as if testing Genesis' patience.

 _Damn you_.

 _Don't mock me with those chilly eyes. Rip that grace off your body; it's only for the me capable of feeling emotions_.

But shouldn't he pity Sephiroth? Neither of them had particularly pleasant childhoods...but there was still no question - Sephiroth went through a literal hell. Scientific and glorious it may have seemed, but they all knew. It was a pitch-dark abyss beyond imagination. Beyond even Genesis' imagination or thoughtfulness.

_You were and still are my hero._   
_The only one I'd dare covet._

_Riposte_.

The flames manipulating every single cell of his were screaming. demanding to engulf everything in its path. Sephiroth's smirk. Sephiroth's body. Sephiroth.

_I want to quench this unexplainable numbness. Show me fire! Let me spew fire from my burning eyes._

" _You're far from the hero this world needs! This world...begs for a new champion!_ "

Everything hurtled off of his hands. his heart. his mind. his control. Angeal's mediations made it through the insatiable beasts for awhile. Something in Genesis' head begged him to stop, too. But what right had he to blame it on the monster, when these dangerous _abominable_ emotions, this unreasonable jealousy were all his? and nobody else's?

_It is all my fault_

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

"Genesis."  
 _Angeal?  
_ "Genesis."

_I'm sorry. I wanted to make it up to you but I ended up throwing Fire materia at your face. I'm sorry, my friend. My guilt is not enough to placate anything anymore._

"Genesis," the voice was firmer, closer.  
Genesis' eyes cracked open.  
"Ouch," his delicate, ghostly eyelashes have never been this heavy. Not when his shoulder was barraged by poison bullets years ago in a Corel raid. Not when a Wutaian temple pillar pinned him to the ground a few months back.

He felt the urge to fish around for rapier, but the unmistakable stench of the antiseptic they abhorred to death...odious. goddamn odious; Genesis' delirious state made him want to retch even more more.

Black hair and pacifying eyes, but it wasn't the Angeal Hewley he loved. Genesis' head was spinning but he's relieved. even pleased. He couldn't face Angeal now. maybe not even in a million years.

"Genesis," the voice repeated again for the millionth time. He must've been been gazing into nothingness again.

"Huh?"

Hollander sighed, accompanied with a compassionate look.  
 _Ha, that must've been very uncharacteristic of me._

The silence settled again but Hollander looked desperate for answers. More of concerned, actually.

"How did it come to this, Genesis?" he began gently. obviously holding back, trying to go easy on his invalid patient.

_Really, Genesis. How did it come to this? Since when did you steam off your hot head to the only people who care about you?_

"Where's Angeal? Sephiroth?" the redhead dodged the question like a poison-infested Wutaian arrow. He needed a compensation for this worst headache he's ever had in his entire life. _My head can't fix on one spot even for a second, and you expect me to explain a longass complicated story?_

"Answering to the President."

"I'm dizzy, this headache is the worst..."

"You haven't been well lately, Genesis. The strength in your blood is barely there and your pulse is weak. Even now."

"Hmm?"

"This injury is the last thing that will help," Genesis didn't know if the doctor was really angry or just exhausted tending to him.

He's already conscious and in a stable condition. He can see it on the monitor; his pulse is flickering on and off like some bad magic. _How much more shock? How many more surprises until this day's over?_

"Why is my pulse like that?" Genesis started weakly, asking the obvious mystery.

"You've been weirdly unstable," the doctor answered him, sounding very careful with what he let out. "In the nine days you were admitted here, today was the only one when you had a pulse. Even while I was treating your wound."

 _Haha,_ Genesis wanted to force out and fight the building absurdity of the situation. "That's absurd, Hollander. That would mean I died and then came back to life."

The doctor heaved out an exasperated sigh, not directed at his patient. "Scientifically, that is true. That is why I'm concerned about your stress levels and conditions."

_Emotional conditions? SOLDIERS do not feel emotions. If any, barely. It is not in our blood. It is the bane of our duty._

Genesis swallowed. The room was already making him uncomfortable, pushing out what little oxygen his lungs were accepting. This sudden intensity after an absurd nine-day coma was killing him.

Still, he needed to be careful with his words. "Doctor...you were the one who told us that mako suspends emotion. And in heated cases, it reduces it - even delaying it," he was answering damn well for an invalid.

"You're not overdue, either. Anyways, Genesis," Hollander's voice grew grim and his face dark. "This must not get out to anyone. All that Sephiroth and Angeal know is that you have a life-threatning blood deficiency right now."  
Before Genesis could ask him, Hollander gave him a long look and a nod to say it was true. "You and I would like things to stay that way, Genesis."

Genesis swallowed harder. It was a while before he could speak. "I, too, believe that," he said as simply as possible.

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

"Salary cut for 24 months. All three of you are still permitted your leaves, your 1st-Class leaves, and mission salary. I do not want a disaster like this ever again. Dismissed," even Lazard's voice sounded more concerned than reprimanding. _Truly a kind man, aren't we, Director?_

Something close to worry flashed in Sephiroth's face as they swept Genesis'. It felt like forever since he last felt the General's chilly eyes on his; he missed it. Allthroughout his outrageous nine-day coma, the monster had kept quiet. Surprisingly even to himself, the redhead was calm. not even paranoid.

_She probably got what she wanted and won't bother me again. She won't drive me crazy again. I can start over. I'll try to live normally again._

Angeal's eyes were stoic, but deeply warm. like the fireplace Genesis was longing for.

_I missed you. It was hell._

Genesis needed the attention, the corporeality of his friends' love so much, so bad. Coma life was hell, if it could even be called a life. The reparations for their damaged playground could wait; he needed the relief, the air. Amusement, even - genuine.

He must've been still delirious and helplessly sentimental, not noticing that Sephiroth and Angeal had already stepped out of the briefing room. Of course...with his weary, dulled-out senses how could he hope to feel anything from his surroundings?

_I know Lazard needs to have a talk with me._

_Lazard is genteel and professional. He'll go easy on me...I just hope._

The redhead would've been contrite of last week's disaster, but something just felt wrong! _It wasn't entirely my fault, you see - if only I could tell you about the monster that's been tormenting me. Inexorable. I couldn't even shut my ears; I barely remember what really happened!_

"I know well that serious accidents can happen no matter how careful we are, Genesis. But you've been stressed to a very uncomfortable point even before this accident happened," his sentences were drenched with worry, almost uneasy. Genesis more than expected his voice to harden with annoyance and his eyes to glare...but Lazard was soft, as if to pacifying his SOLDIER.

Yet the redhead couldn't really find anything to say.

He wanted to see Angeal's face, touch the trail of his "noble" cheekbones and assure himself that he's real, he wasn't screaming out the name of a ghost during his coma. He needed to run through Sephiroth's silken hair, dance them through the comforting velvetness. take in the familiar ice of his emerald eyes, freeze that blasted monster's carrions with the inhumane chill and security. all this so he'll feel more alive again, more like himself.

"Obviously, you haven't told anyone about the past weeks...not even Sephiroth or Angeal, from their guilty looks," Lazard folded his gloved fingers together, the same way he does when he wants to trap divergent problems, compromise, then solve.

"This matter is indeed personal without a doubt...but Genesis, is there really no one you can confide to?"

_What are you trying to tell me? The fact that I couldn't open up even to Angeal and Sephiroth, who are closer to me than blood...isn't that enough to make you understand that I just can't? I can't!_

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

Wutai had been pushed to their limits, declaring "capitulation" two days after Genesis' release from the labs. No treaties, no amendments, no efforts for concordance. The rubble-reduced nation was silent but struggling to come out of the ruins.

"It's taking the covers. It goes without saying they're doing it to catch us off-guard, debilitated or not," Angeal was briefing the rest of SOLDIER as Sephiroth talked over the emergency deployments with Lazard.

SOLDIER then introduced the "dead-deployment state". Technically, all SOLDIERS, even comandeering 1st-Classes would be inactive to mirror Wutai's state.

"Not to mock Wutai or to stoop to their level...we really need it. Otherwise, this is bullcrap," Genesis told himself. "Shinra's just too pigheaded to pretend the casualties are nothing, anyway."

This would allow the troops a break and recovery but at the same time they were expected to be ready whenever called. _More time and freedom but sharper conditions, huh?_

Angeal made the most out of it - training Zack's muscles to the point of fire. But not only his puppy. but other 2nd-Classes, too. This alleviated Genesis' insecurity a bit.

"I advise you to just recover, Genesis," Sephiroth was revising the deployment plan. "At some point, your serious injury and unstable condition won't be enough to excuse you when we are called back."

 _I can't hold it in._ "Something's fishy here, Seph. And you know it. Shinra..can crush Wutai now, but they're holding back?"

"Preparing us for the crushing blow, if you haven't figured out yet but I know you have," Seph blurted out with tired venom, using the tone that said he's had too much. His fatigued emerald eyes turned to the window, but the Midgar view was nothing if not stressing. "Shinra never pretends; it only hides."

_Like this dormant indignance that can't be pacified, only nursed and nurtured._

Genesis took a deep breath, a sanguine volcano's lava overflowing. "I want out, Seph."

Emerald sliced him up.

_I won't cower, especially not in your face. Not beside you. You're the one who needs out the most.._

"What?"

_I cannot avoid your authority...but I definitely will not consent to this disgusting carnage.  
_

"What's with this affront, Genesis?"

"Shinra. Is. Wrong!"

_And don't you dare draw your blade to silence me! Not the same blade and slashes you tore them down with. Shedding blood won't improve a civilization's life but only stain their land. Don't tell me you are taking bloody Shinra's side!_

_Don't lecture me with responsibility!_

"I did NOT become a SOLDIER to slaughter the peaceful innocent!"

"Would you then...go against me to fulfill your beliefs?" The look was almost warm, as if The Silver General had started to melt down. Warm, but not mocking. Envious, almost.  
 _Genesis, Shinra is my home, the only place and life and world I'll ever know...  
_

Exploding sapphire turned watery, turned to the pole-rigid body in front of him. that unwavering soul, that uncrushable presence. _This is my General...but he doesn't know where to go. What a disgusting world.  
_

_What about us three? We are as human and as tormented and as cursed as the dying Wutaians. And believe me, Seph, we are even more shameful than the bloody-naked children and even more cruel than the poison they mix with their arrows._

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

The redhead was in bed. Mako couldn't sate his anger, couldn't dull his exhausted heartbeats.

_Shinra is the beast, but why do I feel like I'm the one?_

"'geal...what's wrong with me? I feel like I'm back to my hormonal teenager years, for gaia."

"Hectic, uncomfortable week, no doubt about that," the safe, soothing voice on the other end of the receiver said, making Genesis feel safe for once.

"Sephiroth's...so distant," worry cracked his voice and he heard it himself. "Unsympathetic. No matter how I say it, he can't..he doesn't, it's like he doesn't want me to get through him."

"He's stuck, we all know that. Put yourself under his skin, Gen."

_How many times have I heard you say that? A million a year when we were kids, still climbing the thin Banora trees and running around with apples? A trillion then when we entered SOLDIER and realized that the world's expanse was close to unlimited? Overflowing when SOLDIERs started fighting and dying under your raven-named command?_

_I cannot bear to forgive myself._

"We didn't become SOLDIERs for this, 'geal...you, of all people would know how I feel and why I think like that," the vulnerability and frustration in his voice was disgusting. Genesis wanted to be the strongest SOLDIER, but he wasn't so sure where his loyalty should stand right now.

The silence was crushing, but both of them needed it. needed to think. needed to escape from all this.

Genesis broke it. "Recently, I haven't seen anyone die in front of me yet, 'geal..but all this needs to stop."

"We can't, Genesis. You know that. You know Shinra."


	7. Chapter 7

" _Behold the dreams that haunt us -_  
 _foolishly aspiring for justice in the midst of the dark!_  
 _Blind to the demons making hell darker still_

_The reality that will rend our hearts to nothingness -_   
_A true hero must strip off his armor, protecting his shaking heart with mere rags_

_Dogs hunting, burning peace_  
 _like blazes thrown down the holy lakes_ "

"I must confess these words soothe me as much as they haunt me," Genesis mumbled to himself, willing his system to block out the steady pain. His bedroom felt like a prison without the needed scent of Angeal's cooking...wafting through the entire place...or any piece of Sephiroth's presence. that presence that's already engraved in his senses...

The wilting rose by his sheets was splayed with orange-purple dusk, but to Genesis' eyes its petals were burning to death.

Gaia, he wanted to manufacture Shinra dart-boards himself and incinerate them with Shinra Fire materias. feed them to Cerberuses. hack them to atom-sized bits. summon Bahamut to make the flame party more...grand. Then sprinkle the ashes down the entire complex; it didn't matter if the already-filthy Midgar air inhaled them.

_Shinra...I will prove your disgusting wrongs!_

Was his left shoulder really healing?  
 _Have I already become this machine? Barely human anymore, no longer human enough to accept human blood and heal this human wound? I want blood in my veins, not filthy mako, dammit._

He abhorred that blasted wound immensely. It was an unmistakable symbol of their deteriorating friendship, no excuses - a bad omen, a more than terrible omen. Or has it already proved the misfortune?

_It has to heal, it has to go away! If only I can scalpel it out.  
_ _It's so disgusting; it's eating my heart whole. I'm going insane._   


_And insane you shall remain,_

it called out weakly but promisingly.  
 _You are only faint! I shall crush you as well.  
_ Innocent crimson petals wept, trapped in an angry fist spitting fire on mere impulse.

 _Express what you're feeling, don't bottle it all up,_ Lazard's advice spread through his troubled mind, relaxing him like a Cure spell.

_Monster, I am more stubborn than a mule._

It's definitely silence that scared the redhead more than anything.

"Talk about monsters under your bed," he said rather loudly, haunted.

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_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

_Dancing a dance to burn,_  
listening for the mad's screams  
Where has my soul gone?  


_I am not cold, I am not alone  
I do not weep, and I cannot be found_

_One - white,_  
Two - faint,  
Three - glazed,  
Four - solid,  
Five - crimson

_Oh crimson, my dear soul, the promise of my life_

_I vowed crimson for justice, not crimson to shed..._  
These invisible tears are more vivid than my sapphire gems.  
Ribbons and ribbons...more ribbons. For whom shall I weep? Myself? For you? For us? For the damned world? 

_One more round_ , Genesis promised himself solemnly. It didn't usually take much to focus his eyes on projectiles..but why was the training room whirling all around?

He pulled a riposte to steady himself. The calm was ephemeral, a voice like thunder soon taking its place.

_My monster._

Something heavy knocked the breath out of him, knocked him off his already-shaking heels. The monster was pushing him down gently, then grounding him to the training floor the next moment. Every sense was...shutting down. The training room whirled to jet-black before he felt a cool, steely presence...

Warmth caved in. familiarity.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Genesis was one hell of a fashionista ever since Sephiroth got to know him. Fedora hats that came from strange passersby, fur cloaks (Sephiroth would wince at the ticklish discomfort), godforsaken heeled boots. Those monthly parlor appointments to keep his hair from going "insanely ugly" and that dresser filled with cosmetics and eyeliner, even if it was supposed to be filled with strategy drafts or..just a simple comb?_

_Sephiroth always wanted to ask the...strange creature if he could ever, for gaia, do without the nonsense. He'd known him long enough to anticipate the disbelieving look, the judging glare.  
Or more._

_"You can sure do without the mascara, it only makes you look fiercer," Sephiroth revealed to him once, half-complaint, half-request. "And eyeliner makes your big eyes look impossibly bigger, Gen."_

_The redhead beside him hummed, took a noisy bite from the apple in his hand. "Masked beauty will be at its bravest," he muttered another of those endless LOVELESS passages on queue. Whether to annoy everyone or to raise his ego, Sephiroth never really knew..maybe both. Genesis Rhapsodos was impossible to understand. or even get to know.  
_

_Silver General Sephiroth couldn't stand anything he couldn't understand or get to know. But he never judged full-on straight, moral Angeal on how this...creature from...hell was still his best friend._

_"I don't know," Angeal and Sephiroth were still fresh 1st-classes back then - gazing at, or rather desperately looking (Genesis would say imagining) for star-ghosts in the godforsaken ugliest Midgar sky...it was after a bloody, exhausting monster clearing, headbutting with brute creatures and vermin._

_"It's just something about Genesis...as often as he contradicts himself, he's always sure as...hell."_

_The three of them were still that new, awkward triad, but Sephiroth found himself agreeing._  
Apart from the cursing and the brutal way he strips lies naked, everything else that Genesis did was beautiful. Men, much much less SOLDIERs, never had the time for mascara and makeup was never the common pastime. LOVELESS was art - everyone agreed on that, and Genesis was never ashamed of reciting the vaguest of verses in public. when anyone else would rather have died of embarrassment.  


 _His rapier was almost melodic, that sheer hum the opening beat for its redheaded wielder's graceful sword dance. Yes, Genesis_ danced; _even the most primal, most desperate heartbeats were soaked with grace._ _  
_

_It's a life only he can live...and pull off._

And this, this hyperventilating, unconscious, lost _mess_ in front of him? It was the last version of Genesis Rhapsodos that registered "not impostor" in the General's complicated brain.

 _What is wrong, what has happened and why can't he tell Angeal or me?_  
No one has ever seen him like this.  
Is his injury still worrying him?  
What did Lazard say?  


Incoherent mumblings tore him from his down muses. Unconscious Genesis was sweating, his face contorted to fear in the numbest way. if that was possible. Sephiroth leaned in and pinned the tremor-shaken body still. He'd never seen his friend like this ever before. not even when his leg had been rendered completely immobile by a 1st-danger-degree Wutaian poison dart. not when he almost lost his leg and arm to the metal pillars in the Northern Caves. not when -  
 _His pulse..there's something irregular. What's wrong? He's not overdue, is he? And this is definitely not the reaction to mako pre-addiction._

Before he can decide exactly what was wrong with his friend, the mumblings became louder. almost coherent.

" _m..sorrry.."_

Something pulled in Sephiroth's gut, but he knew better than to wake his friend up. It wasn't logic, it wasn't experience, but he just had to hear whatever more the redhead had to..mumble.

" _hurts...stop..shouldn'tt've...ve...happen..ned"_ The redhead's injured shoulder was shaking, blocking out the already-ghostly volume of his mutters. A normal 2nd-Class cadet would've called for help right now, but Sephiroth glued himself in place. still determined.

" _sorry...Seph...I...didn'ttt...mean it..could've...ve...stop..stopped_ "

Sephiroth's world narrowed down to the shaking SOLDIER, his desperate mumblings shattering everything else in the room.

" _could've...st-stopp...ed"_ The silences were always long...

" _knew..twas...g-g-gonna...happen.._ "

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The redhead woke from another unspeakably-desperate nightmare, but those piercing emerald eyes... _.more painful than acid...cold skin...where is the warmth that I need?_

_When have I begun sounding this pathetic?_

Sephiroth was like that. wore those same exact eyes...when he _truly_ cared; but Genesis would trade that for Angeal's assuring sky-blue eyes anytime... _yes, bring me to the sky, bring me somewhere safe and where there can be peace._

"I know you'd rather die than tell me," the calm General began level-headedly, as if already knowing the answer, "but don't you think you're dragging the face of your responsibilities through mud by hiding things as dire as this?"

_Oh, Seph...you blab about responsibility and Angeal about honor..._

"...Seph..."

"Well, Commander Rhapsodos? Your position or your privacy."

_Don't talk like that, Seph. Please, it scares me...please don't talk like that. I'm holding up the best I can, I most certainly promise._

"Seph...don't push me...not yet...I don't know...yet."

"You're not late for your dose, you haven't gone to any missions lately, it has been calm compared to previous weeks. But you've been more stressed than I've ever known you can be, Genesis. You cannot expect me not to pull out answers from you."

"I...I don't feel really well, Seph," _dammit, I have to delay..._ "my injury's been so hard and painful on me."

The General did not flinch, shift or make the slightest human movement. Genesis was irked, but he tried to swallow the uneasiness.

"Then there's something. Have you checked up with Hollander?"

"Was supposed to see him this afternoon."

Silence reigned over the dark, brooding atmosphere. Genesis wanted to vomit, wanted to crawl away. No matter where he turned, Sephiroth's emerald eyes were too all-absorbing and predatory... _I cannot run away..._

"...I'm just going to tell you one thing, Genesis...your pupils turned red."

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His crimson leather gloves were elemental-proof. Deceiving smoothness hid the slightly-tough but invisible padding. The redhead uses the pair everyday, but he could never really remember where he got them and how. whether he looted them from a legendary beast or picked it up floating on an enchanted lake's surface. whether Shinra gave them to him or he bought them on some mysterious shop.

 _Mirror, mirror on the wall...  
_ The redhead was recalling some girls' rhyme...it was definitely from Banora. Taking a sip of water, he was humming casually. _Maybe today, I'll feel better. After all, Seph cared..._  


Gingerly, Genesis slipped the gloves on. _Yes, I can open my eyes...he didn't take it that badly, did he? I can work it out.._

Grey-black flesh, jet black against his cared-for canvas of ivory.  
rough against the prized smoothness.  
it sang an ominous taunt, shattering what good start the day could've kicked off with.  
the future could fall with this,

_my future will fall with this._

The glass crashed down, crystals shining with the water droplets. _Do not mock my imperfection; do not glimmer, do not glimmer!_

_I don't even know where this came from!_

_Breathe, Genesis, breathe!_

_Breathe, try to breathe._

_Please, try to breathe._

More voices melded in, more memories joined the medley. commands, auto-pilot resorts and reflexes triggered by intense panic. In Wutai, in the Shinra Headquarters, in unknown ruins, in Corel Prison, in dungeons where they were interrogated mercilessly, in terrifying, unfamiliar terrain...it could happen anywhere. Yes, he heard these voices everywhere, he held onto these simple yet life-saving thoughts everywhere.

_Get ahold of yourself, Genesis!_

_Stay with us!_ Angeal and other 1st-Classes' yells...

_Angeal..._

_What is this...?_

_Please, get it off! Get it out of my skin!_

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"It's unfortunate," how many eons of blood samples and liquid analysis and tests did it take for the goddamn scientist to admit the obvious fact? Well, hours and hours of them. At least a week in this godforsaken lab, Genesis felt.  
His mind turned everything that happened so far today again and again in his head. It was getting tiresome, but his instincts and intellect both reached the same conclusion every time: _Hollander knows something more, way more than this, as shocking as these already are. And he's not going to tell me._

The scientist was obviously fiddling around with instruments unnecessarily - _to pass the goddamn time_ , as Genesis knew. _I'm pretty sure we don't_ _need a graduated cylinder, do we?_

Genesis couldn't bear it. "Hollander, I'm more than certain I have a right to an explanation."  
 _I know this gig with me is something big._ _My gut begs me to be wrong, though.  
_

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"Tough meeting, eh, Seph?" Angeal's voice obviously held more energy than his, despite coming down from a training session and demo with Zack, in addition to a disaster of a meeting.

"Commander Rhapsodos' absence from today, yes, has given me more on my hands than I expected," usual curt replies. His footsteps were sharper but tired; more and more shambles were falling down on him this week.

"He did go for a checkup with Hollander, which is more reason for my worry," Angeal voiced his own troubled thoughts.

 _Genesis is never sick._  
He's almost a god even without the mako and the SOLDIER additions and the training and the doses.  
He does not get sick, he gets over things easily. 

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No reaction, no emotion. But every step, every lift, every tiny shake was tiring. Genesis had no energy left, _I'm so sick of dancing this dance I don't even know._

Unwillingly, his mind recoiled and recoiled and recoiled and recoiled to the...shocking afternoon. Hollander's voice just couldn't goddamn leave his ears, not even for a split-second.

The Midgar air polluted _everything_ even more.  
Black, black, filthy green, grey, _everything in between filth and corruption and lies_!

 _You're not human.  
Have you ever wondered how...unbelievably amazing the 1st Classes are? The whole of SOLDIER, in fact?  
Why do you think the 1st-Classes are...borderline immortal?  
JENOVA..._  
 _JENOVA, Genesis. That alien.  
You 1st-Classes have more of her cells in you.  
You three have even more. An...abnormal amount? A very unusual amount.  
JENOVA...  
Have you ever wondered why the three of you would go crazy without your usual check-ups and your doses?  
JENOVA...  
Have you ever wondered why it was Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis? And no one else?  
JENOVA Project. _  
_I know the three of you feel very special and chosen. That is true._  
 _JENOVA Project.._  
You have the unfortunate end of the string, Genesis.  
Yes, the most unfortunate. 

_SHINRA! BLOODY SHINRA!_

_Is this my own voice?_

_Yes, it is my heart._

_Deceived. Overlooked._

_The tears fall,_

_I cannot stop..._

_I cannot STOP..._

_STOP...!_

_...Heart of the purest, trampled on by those who defile_  
Shriek to the purest moon, tainted with rivers of ugliest crimson  
King, bask in the glory of the heroes and not in the blood of the fallen  
Curse of the light, hope of the darkness  
The worthy crowned, magic stemmed deep from the purest heart  
Prayer of the shadowed, hymn of the one that believes  
The sword drawn, the fury unleashed...

_Hallowed Father, my plea you shall bless!_

Only the terrifying claws, so precise and sharp, could mirror Genesis' hatred, dying to be let loose. Only the ethereal scales could stop him from incinerating the whole Shinra Headquarters himself. The unearthly roughness was a barrier between his eager, more-than-ready hand and self-control. Or was it sanity? Only Bahamut's howl could voice the deep, deep, deep, unexplainable pain that kept overwhelming the redhead's heart. Only the eons-wide beating wings could extinguish the indignant, wronged, seething flare of his emotions to a safe point.

_I never play safe..._

_Troubled one, you were insane enough to call me in this normalcy?_

_My heart never ran in normalcy._

_Who do you wish me to -_

_Please...just take me away...take me far away. Take me for a fly._

_I have never heard you utter the word "please". So be it._

_Close your eyes, Genesis,_ he would do anything to hear Angeal's soothing voice now. Anything. He needed that specific pacifier...

 _'geal...how wretched the truth can be...it's too much for me to bear,_ the words came out both as a plea and as a thought he wished would never reach the raven.

_Away...away...don't think of them...far...go far...far...where the truth can't reach any of you..._

His lungs expanded eventually, the knife of hatred that wrenched his heart and lungs let off...only for awhile. No matter; Genesis cherished it, but scorned the night air that was cooling off his precious hatred. _My precious hatred. Mine. No one must take it away. I am right to feel like this._

_To where or until where do you wish to fly, troubled one?_

_Far, Hallowed Father. Where the truth can't reach me or the ones whom I love._


	8. Explosives Take Ages

Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully, thankfully! his consciousness now seemed to be perfectly fine for the long night (that word was morphing into a million different things already, its real meaning stretching and extending. _like those unbearable nights on field that seemed to last forever, when even a single star's light blotted and blotted to draw in...to become more and more indistinguishable_...)

_But honestly, when does a thought begin, and where does it truly cut off?_

_It surely can't just die mid-rope, can it?_

_Not mine. Explosives take ages..._

Feeling the current drawing lower and stronger, the redhead hummed. hummed. hummed. until Angeal's silhouette was the one drawing closer and stronger. until it's Angeal's balcony doors illustrating the entrance to fresh (sarcastic) air and not invisible claws closing in -

Angeal's silhouette on the starry balcony, his whole being fiery with pride. There's obviously something of a godly grandeur about his protege being promoted to 2nd. something one-in-a-universe.

_I guess, with our currently annoying circumstances, when even being civil towards the admins is becoming a tight war...it truly is a godly grandeur._

Angeal's silhouette on the starry balcony, his whole being fiery with pride. beyond that. more than that. The flames were passionately ignited by Zack Fair's glory, achievement, accomplishment, promotion, name it...yes, it was something Genesis or Sephiroth would never have (they didn't want to raise puppies anyway). The pride of a mentor, the joy reaped from patience, the joy reaped from sculpting -

The redhead already knew that this starry sight, Angeal and Zack's mutual flames tangible enough to clear out the dreadful Midgar night-sky, _realer than any desired illusion...I already know it's something I will never forget..._

Despite the pleasant, cozy milkshake of emotions exciting his heart, the smile this crafted on his lips was still bittersweet. _the bittersweet messenger of dark days, tragedy_...

Jet-black hair, ghost-pale face more than capable of scaring humans...but _those deepest cerulean eyes_. It wasn't an ugly cancellation. Rather, it was the most quintessential contrast between life and death. indefatigable defiance against all the cruel subjugations their disgusting world boasted as if they were good things.  
Eyes, his eyes held a universe. _Those eyes. so young, and yet...so filled, fireworks of life..._

_It's like I know you! A soul, from restless feet to worldly eyes, always teetering on an undefinable precipice..._

"Genesis?" _Angeal...I know this down demeanor is ruining your special day. I'm truly sorry - I didn't mean for that._

"Hmm?" _The less I say, the stronger the threat of truth's dam builds and builds and builds and builds to smash open in the ugly end.  
_

"Overloading, aren't you?"

There will always be an unbreakable barrier between him and Zack. _It started ever since Lifestream was green...and will end just when...?_

"You could say that, 'geal," even if it's just a useless ghost of a smile, the redhead still forced it out. "We need more drinks to SOLDIER stress."

"Thanks for being with us today. I know you still haven't recovered fully...but you strained yourself to boost Zack's morale.."

_Can you please not talk like that? as if I'm worthless. invalid. incapable. weak._

"Ha...I needed to make it up to The Puppy. A 3-Minute Blink Tool was only befitting.."

"And useful. Innovative, Gen. Even devices from the science department can't sustain Blink for more than 120 seconds. Just what strings did you pull, eh?"

_The horizon always lightens, your gentle candle with that special, gentle flame is a remedy against the dark. Truly grateful to have you, 'Geal._

But Genesis closed his eyes to bar the sentence from escaping. "'Cause they're stupid. I, on the other hand, danced with Time Magick," he pulled on that snug smirk, "then the usual magic container."

_I know what you want to say, 'geal. You want to praise my genius...but you know that's going to bloat my already "awful" ego...so yes - there comes that gruff smile instead!_

"You know I was very worried about you and Zack," an old man's sigh - "You've been very cautious and wary of him. I could tell you didn't really like him."

Cornered with honesty, the redhead had no choice but to nod. "Yes...quite jealous...your friend here is," Genesis laughed at his own sincerity. "At first, only. I've gotten over the irrational feeling now. It was quite stupid of me, 'geal. I'm sincerely sorry."

Worry lines still displaced the laugh lines in Angeal's face, so Genesis continued clarification. "But no - you're mistaken. I love your puppy, 'geal. There's something special about him. Something one-in-a-million."

"I agree he blesses me with grey hairs and headaches," The laugh lines re-appeared, assuring them that the mentor's comment was half-sarcastic. A warm smile was shot to Angeal, but the raven's eyes were closed in pleasure.

So the evening passed with Angeal listing the amusing congratulatory gifts Zack received - a Meal Improvement Kit which wasn't really going to be useful until he's stationed in Wutai, an RC Puppy from Lazard, a Flare-powered Flash Light from Kunsel, a Boots Odor Eater that automatically casted Cure afterwards, the list went on...

_Your joy comforts me as well, friend. The Puppy has really done you very good.  
_

"The question is, which of those did you give him?"

That sidelong glance coupled with a far smile..."Hmm...a personalized thumbprint necklace...also stuck to a latitude necklace with, as you guessed, the coordinates of our apartment."

A compliment flies out of Genesis' lips, its wings actually genuine. "Remember the day when we were promoted to 2nd, 'geal?"

Their eyes catch each other, a piece of their younger selves overriding their tired souls then.. _the ecstatic relief of nostalgia. making sure that I'm not entirely broken..._

"You were late for the ceremony! Haha!"

"Thanks to the 50-push ups sentence and straight run in the Sim, I was able to discover - "

"Oh," Angeal's gruff laugh deepens in homely pleasure, as he would call it. "Do stop! You and your mischievous pranks. If only your brains were put to better use.."

"Yes, mom," the redhead gave a pout. "Where is Seph, hmm?"

 _Why are you shutting the balcony door?_ He must've given a nasty snarl, for Angeal exclaimed a cannon sorry.

"You just...ruined the mood," irritation and apathy tug at his disposition's balance. "The precious balcony door, 'geal."  
 _You disintegrated such an immortal scene. destroyed the instruments of nature - in the process of crystallizing this indescribable grandiosity._

To his relief, Angeal smiled in agreement - that lukewarmness. "With everything in disarray, moments and reminiscences like these are rare - I'd agree."

"You're more poetic than we three would admit." A half-familiar coziness coaxes Genesis to let go of his breaths, to allow himself to flop down the sofa. "'geal, you get my point."

"Of course. To answer your original question, Seph just dropped a gift then left."

"That bastard," it's still not quite a curse that slips half-heartedly from Genesis' lips.

A sigh in agreement this time, though not with the same degree - "Can't deal with anything anymore, eh. We can't blame him. Mid-life crisis, except he's too young. Or maybe he's just denying that he's old enough for it."

 _No one can deal with this messed-up Wutai shit.  
_ "That's something I completely agree with, but won't consent to. He's not reaching out to us when this is a time when he should," Genesis seriously didn't care if his SOLDIER voice was taking over or not.

_But then again, Sephiroth never did._

"Goodnight, 'geal. I'm sorry."

"Goodnight. Don't be. I feel exactly the same way as you do," the apartment walls were blurring, and that precious starry scene was becoming more and more of a faraway joke...

"Looks like I'm not much different from him," he half-hoped Angeal heard him as he trudged to the door. The apartment hallways housing the Elite SOLDIERs blurred frustratedly with the ominous labs' in his memory.

perspective narrowing. even the air attacked his humane plea to breathe.

The scene cut.

he gave in. he gave in. he gave in.

"Genesis!" it's not Angeal's voice - it's something cooler yet sharper. a bite of grenade here and there..sheer, intimidating metal itself clinging to the frequencies.

"I'll close...my eyes...just for a while..." _get out! get out of my head!_

Leather-gloved hands cup his face - desperately, shaking and shaking and shaking it like he would a troop fighting against fatally-drugged poison.  
The voice kept calling his name.  
Metal. Leather. Silver. Emerald-green. Unbreakable.

_Unbreakable. Unprovokable. Undetestable. Incorruptible. Adamantine._

_So...unlike me_

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

"...Flashing to red. Over and over again. Yes. Spasming everywhere. Unusual paleness, beyond normalcy. Even troops drugged with the deadliest Wutai poisons don't have these symptoms."

_Why are the mumbles clear even if it's just my first blink to consciousness? It's the monster in me, isn't it? I don't like this, take it out of me.  
_

Nothing and everything was blurry. Sephiroth was walking closer to him. Nothing was making sense, yet everything was falling back to place.

"...This means that he's been in this state for way too long and has gone unsupervised! Are you even doing his dosages right here?!"

_I've never heard you yell at the phone like that. Please don't yell, that's so unlike you._

Sephiroth's PHS beeped off, that decisive beep, that doom-impending beep. Yet everything was simple. everything was blank.

"I seriously can't explain what's happening to me."

Emerald sharpened and sharpened and sharpened - it's one of the most terrifying sights in Gaia. Genesis' brain felt like it's being washed over and over again, like the addictive current of sea foam on sand. except that this was a terrifying lullaby.

Emerald sharpened and sharpened and sharpened - instant-death-pierced something and someone that wasn't Genesis, thankfully. No sigh signaled life out of his lips; no primal fear of the Silver General hooked him still...

"Don't tell me this is a side effect of your stress about Wutai. This is way too serious, Genesis."

"Don't assume things. Don't assume the world revolves around just you. The injury. I'm obviously sick, Sephiroth. And there's no cure," the words came out more evenly that he'd expected. as if he's just reciting from script.  
 _the heart powering this pathetic body is already emaciated._

 _Emaciated from what, Genesis?_ Emerald was overwhelming against his own emaciated sapphire ones. "I...I'm sorry about your injury. If there was something Angeal and I could do - "

"If you tried listening more to us then less SOLDIERs would've died! We wouldn't be in this fucking stalemate!"

"Watch what you say. I'm not talking about Wutai now," he turned to leave as if Genesis was faking it, then faced the invalid again. "We're talking about you. You're important."

"It's about time to stop being a fucking lapdog, Sephiroth! They couldn't care less about my injury. Hell, even if the three of us died, they wouldn't give a stinking shit about it! They'll continue stepping on others like pathetic pigs! I'm not the pathetic one here!"

"Why are you swearing, Genesis?" Emerald fused with sapphire, and something akin to incompatible materia being forcibly fused woke Genesis' senses alive.

"Pretty much you understand."

"You're not mad at me, I get that. You're mad at Shinra. They won't do you any service even if you're dying. I was just on the phone with Hollander. He's useless and it's not your fault-"

"You're right," how fluid were his tears? Were his sapphire eyes really just the glimpse of the ocean of pain inside? _Why can't I be grounded, like Sephiroth? Why am I so vulnerable?_

"What did he say?" It wasn't a verdict. It wasn't a "I don't care" wrapped behind fancy stage curtains. It was real, genuine concern. _I will fight for you, Genesis_ , maybe - it's just that the General didn't know how to word it in a coherent way -

"There's no hope, Sephiroth. I...the Pro - nevermind.." _It's better to let go. I don't care much about myself anymore, to be honest. It's you guys..._

"How bad is it, Genesis? Will you still be able to fight at all?" The pang of sympathy, the waver in Sephiroth's voice that made way for tenderness -

"Gaia, Seph! Is bloody fighting and SOLDIER all you give a shit about?! You don't even ask me if my heart will still beat tomorrow. You don't even ask me if I can think coherently at all! A SOLDIER WON'T FIGHT WITH AN EMACIATED HEART, SEPHIROTH! I AM LOSING MY MIND HERE LITERALLY AND YOU DON'T FUCKING CARE!"

_You can't be so calm about this, Sephiroth. Or are you crumbling inside? Are you too terrified to tell me how you really feel?_

"Genesis...I won't know how to solve this or help you solve this unless you tell me the whole story."

Pang, headache, headrush, absurd sheen, another headrush - _No...please, not now..._

_Let me take over, you weakling  
You can't take this one_

"Oh, so that's all I am to you, huh. A problem. A battle to fight. When was the last time you looked at the three of us as human beings? Even as co-Generals? When was the last time you've ever thought about how we feel? What we feel? It's been too long! Shinra is bloody eating your soul!"

"I will be the one to decide on that, Genesis. And in the first place, we're talking about you. You, Genesis. Not me or my perspectives towards SOLDIER."

"THE WOUND WILL NEVER HEAL! THE MAKO THAT SEEPED IN MY BLOODSTREAM IS RUINING EVERYTHING ALREADY. IT'S CORRUPTING MY SYSTEM!" the redhead yells from the bottom of his lungs _and heart_ until his throat feels raw. until the lonely yet desperate soundwaves break through the monster's control. _Not now. please. Not now...not to Sephiroth..._

"Why don't you see Hojo?" Now that one sounded like "Keep me out of this." But Genesis knew it's still the monster inside him twisting his heart. twisting it to disgusting, wretched shapes when Sephiroth was actually offering comfort and a shoulder to lean on _even if he's so fucking terrified himself. Sephiroth can't deal well with emotions and you know that. You should be happy that he's still sane right now._

 _How do I tell him? How do I even START, Seph..?_ The current's messed up.  
His fucking brain is already mesed up.

"That monster. It's hopeless, Sephiroth. I will rot from the inside out before long. You don't know what hell I went through when Hollander told me. It's a complicated truth. A complicated revelation that killed me. You won't understand. Not even Angeal will. There's no point."

 _You are enclosed only in the walls you yourself build; you ambush help coming your way only with the boulders you yourself push down the mountain peak you're dangling from,_ how many times has he said these words to Sephiroth with his own lips? With his own desperate and stubborn eyes? With his blood-stained gloves brimming with Cure, when Sephiroth was too stubborn, refused to tell them anything?

_And now, I say them to myself._

Arms link again, as fast as stars re-aligning after death. If there was anything the both of them could accomplish faster than burning each other to ashes, it would be merging to the same flame against a common enemy. Maybe Genesis smiles at the old thought.

"It's not only Wutai, Genesis," Sephiroth tried again, but didn't really sound like he was, "I don't know how to help you though. Hollander told us of the blood transfusion - neither of us were compatible."

"Wutai led us to that... _unfortunate duel_ ," the redhead twisted his lips, tainting the words with the breath of profanity. _I desperately need to curse at a million things now._

"We can't undo the past," at least there was regret exhaled along with Sephiroth's sigh, "so stop, Genesis. Stop thinking like that. Come up with a plan. Ask Hollander or Hojo..or whoever you need - for a solution. A cure."

An agonized cry reverberated all throughout the redhead's heart chambers. bones. skin. cells. Was it ecstasy? relief that Sephiroth cared? happiness that Sephiroth didn't break down on him? Or was it despair?  
Maybe Sephiroth heard it. Maybe Sephiroth couldn't bear to hear it.

"What do you plan to do, Genesis?"

_Thank you, Sephiroth. I know that's how you say you love me._

_Genesis...I really care about you. Not only as my SOLDIER. You know how much you really mean to me.  
_

_Yea, yea._

They got the relevant steps done: the mission was nearly over. However, the mission was aborted. because Genesis, for the love of gaia, couldn't bear to tell Sephiroth that _it's hopeless. There's no cure. I don't have...much left to live..._

 _Let me suspend you in disbelief.  
Let me wrap you in blissful doubt.  
_Sephiroth hated false promises and hopeful lies more than anything, _but...please, let me do this for you, Sephiroth._

It's not that he's going to fight tooth and nail for a cure, though. The justification he feeds his brain with is way too far from hope or any form of optimism.

_gsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg_

_Vanishga. This will make everything possible.  
_

His body was literally invisible. Even if the magick wore out (which he doubted), he was wearing cheap, uncharacteristic frilly pink polo and yellow cowboy pants. Hours ago, he'd purchased them in those filthy Midgar boutiques along with other types of clothing he knew would never use. Like this, he wouldn't be traced. If he could hold his laughter in.

A few hours later, he would just be another visitor of this library. Another owner of strange, uncharacteristic footsteps. Of course, he wore gloves - but wool gloves.

_Talk about eyesores. It's laughing that's hard not to do here._

No nervousness, no anxiety rattling his brain. No joy. No satisfaction, not a single drop of satisfaction for his bleeding heart valleys. No blankness, either. _I've been putting a literal mental check for my reactions, eh?_

_because it helps._

_It doesn't feel like a reaction-controlling exercise anymore. It's nothing but a reminder, a blunt, naked statement of weakness. Emotional vulnerability.  
_ The redhead was just there, in a scene that wasn't so much different from the millions of mobilized espionage cover missions they've done in Wutai. scratch the hilarity of this.

 _It's extremely nerve-wracking when you're alone, but that gives you more freedom. More space to maneuver, more leverage to turn the tables,_ it had been a sinfully-clear day in Midgar when they were training the special cadets. Tonight, it was clear. Crystal-clear and dark, as sensible of a contradiction intelligence missions should be.

Tonight, he was alone - because he's the first to do this. _And I know it will take millions of years for others to join me in my rebellion._

Rebellion, Sephiroth would call it.

 _Salvation_ , _justice_ , Genesis would correct.

Maybe Angeal would be more understanding?

_Angeal understanding still doesn't mean he'll be on your side.  
_

It's the ominous towering bookshelves, shadows even more intensified by the unfriendly darkness. it's the uncertain, unearthly concrete floor that laughs at his trembling booted feet. it's the lightless windows, the useless barred colander that couldn't even capture a single ray of moonlight.  
 _When it's that single ray of moonlight that saves a soul._

_The shadowed furniture, floor, windows shutting you in and not offering a way out, yes - those are the ones forming the rift._

_Not my decided heart._

_Not my uncertain heart._

_I am not the coward here. Shinra is._

_I am not the villain here. Shinra is, a million times over._

_I am not willingly carving this rift myself. I am doing this for the three of us. Of course you'll never join me...but maybe one day, you'll understand...I hope you'll understand.  
_

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

Bahamut's wings juxtaposed to the redhead's soiled heart. _soiled, wavering heart_. There's not much of the murky Midgar night left to conceal his face. his discordant sapphire eyes that clearly just could NOT deal with the truth. The convenience of night was chillingly melting to dawn but it's a one-sided call left unanswered: Genesis knew he won't be calming down any time soon.

"The way you're playing with your hair does not exude confidence, but the opposite," the Hallowed Father bellowed as he sped Genesis through the familiar grungy and metallic and astringent mosaic of his existence that was Midgar. Harsh and piquant was the sensation of travelling at light's speed but he was too preoccupied to take in the consciousness. He doesn't even as much smile at the fact that their escapade in the clouds are actually blocking out the city stench that he's psychosomatically still smelling somewhat.

"I abhor Midgar, yet I am drowned in it," Genesis gave him that much.

"You found a truth you feel that you shouldn't have," carbony air, frizzy howls of wind. yet it's still reeking street alcohol pungently-mutated with city smoke that he smells. angry wind - howls and indignance of the oppressed manacling themselves to it in hopes of being heard.  
 _And this is Shinra's….kingdom._

"If it's making me shake like so – heart, body, soul – then this truth is direly…relevant, I'd admit." Indents on his bare palms, attacked by beyond-angry nails, physicalized the night's unbelievable stress. The stench of Fire and carbon and coal still clung to his fingertips – it was the first time he had cast the spell without gloves. It made for a unique and heartwarming memory, something he'd share with Angeal later on.

_I shouldn't have burned the cheery clothes just to erase all proof….it was something else that should've burned down a long time ago…Shinra….your corrupt ways…_

"The tarnish in your heart and soul, I know it cannot be erased. I believe my judgment is correct…that you will fight a battle unbelievably-painful beyond compare, Genesis."

There were tears that sneaked out of those confident eyes. "Still, pain makes the battle…more worth it. Hatred put to good use is…good."

He re-assessed himself, even if there was no vanity mirror in hand – he didn't need that, _mako gave me this sort of reflective vision a long time ago._ The redhead's cheek was rough – his skin never dealt well with salt. His mind could take strains and strains of stress and torture and interrogation, but no salt for his skin.

"You are free to call me whenever you are in need of my strength. Or flare. Or wings. Or…shoulder, as you humans would call it."

"My hatred is _right_ ," it's crazy adrenaline, desperate heartbeats, worn-out vocal cords and haphazard, primal screaming. Genesis knows it's not the monster inside him, and for that _I can't express how grateful I am. This is the real me. Let me feel this. Let me be human._ "Can you burn the baddie shits? Your Flares would do a stellar job. But leave the good ones safe."

The silence was long. reeked of doom, a slight defeat. somewhat. Nothing was quite shipshape enough and the sun is already blinding him.

"Fire never discriminates, I'm afraid. It burns everything in its path. It is selfish."

_-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-_

After the redhead bypassed his bedroom's biometric-protected window, the temptation of sleep grooved its way to his exhausted body. to his heart, exhausted to the point of numbness. He recalled cases of over-stressed and traumatized SOLDIERs pushed beyond their limits in field, returning to HQs with analgesia. or sometimes worse. Unable to feel any pain, the cores of their souls empty as hell.  
 _But still, I praise Shinra's genius for these biometric stuff._

"What will you do with the truth now that you've obtained it?" Sephiroth's question was incisive. unexpected. uncompromising. It would've been more overwhelming at night's obsidian, but it was already _dawn, it's already fucking dawn.  
_ The redhead doesn't bother to flinch or even fake a startled jump. No " _Gaia, Seph_ "s, no shock as excuse for profanity.

"I'm too…tired, Seph. Let's talk later – I don't care how much you saw or how the hell you got in my apartment, but-"

"Can I assume you won't use it to cause any funny trouble?"

Emerald was petrifying him, chafing off whatever's left of both his physical and mental endurance. _I am just a human. I am still a human, thank Gaia._

_But until when will it last?_

"Will you laugh if I say I'll only use it to protect?" _Even if…these hands have only known how to slay…how to burn….Fire cannot protect…_

_And I am Fire itself  
And I am Fire incarnate _

"I'd very much like to see your Fire protect," maybe it's a pejorative reply. maybe it isn't. _But this isn't Sephiroth's way of being a sweetheart, on the rare occasions that he is._

"By that…" The General enumerated his grisly eyes, his confused heart (now _that's just rare_ , the redhead noted to himself but knew better than to vocalize), his constant swallowing. released his sorrow into the air they breathe. the air they share. Splayed with dawn's first sunrays, the Silver General looked human. It's a heartwarming thing, be it realization or mind's eye, _Sephiroth is a fucking human._

"I sincerely hope you'd fight once again with us," _your lips warping Time and Space- surreptitious, the lively flickers of your magic vestiges illuminating the lonely battlefield's horizon, lithe and liquid footsteps wrestling with earth but even so it's still the sky where I see you in  
_ but Sephiroth was no cannon poet. A closet one, he was. closer to a muted poet who could not bring his beauty to life.  
Genesis could decode the augmentation of his voice (or the meaningful mellowness of it), the halts between significant syllables, the sighs he hides underneath powerful words, to the rawest…most _original_ poetry he's ever heard in his life.

It's as factual as Genesis' moodswings, but masked.  
 _You were given a sword to steal all the world's dreams. But never an awareness that your soul could sing, that it's okay._

_I'm the only one who can see the real you, but it's okay. I know we wouldn't have it any other way._

"I….don't know, Seph," his pale tears watered blossoms of hope. Genesis had no choice but to pretend that it's fatigue making him rub his eyes again and again, _and not so I can get rid of these goddamn tears._

"Your blinks are longer than usual, Genesis. Get some sleep."

"No definite promises yet about fighting," even his voice was chalky. He knows he's just sugar-coating the bad news. _Even this smile is unwarranted._

The General turned to shut the bedroom door as he mumbled, "You're lucky your duties and patrols start at late afternoon today," but it's something that bordered on " _I hope everything will be all right_ "s, " _maybe there's something better in store for us_ "s, _"I wish we could find a way to put an end to all of this_ "s, and a million more things that General Sephiroth would _never ever say._


End file.
